Hymns of the Atharva Veda, by Ralph T.H. Griffith, [1895]
1Hero, the Soma being pressed I pour the juice for thee to drink
Sate thee and finish thy carouse.
2Let not the fools, or those who mock, beguile thee when they
seek thine aid:
Love not the enemies of prayer.
3Here let them with rich milky draught cheer thee to great
munificence:
Drink as the wild bull drinks the lake.
4Praise, even as he is known, with song Indra, the guardian of
the kine,
The Son of Truth, Lord of the brave.
5Hither his bay steeds have been sent, red steeds are on the
sacred grass.
Where we in concert sing our songs.
6For Indra, Thunder-armed, the kine have yielded mingled milk
and meath,
What time he found them in the vault.