XII Indra

1. Indra, be pleased: drive forward, hero, striker of thy bays!

Fair, like a sage, delighting in the meath, drink of the juice for rapturous joy.

2. O Indra, fill thy belly anew with meath that seems to flow from heaven.

The sweet-voiced raptures of this juice have come, as 'twere to heaven. to thee.

3. Indra, victorious, Mitra-like, smote, like a Yati, Vritra dead.

As Bhrigu quelled his foes, he cleft Vala in Soma's rapturous joy.