Hymns of the Atharva Veda, by Ralph T.H. Griffith, [1895]
1Indra, foe-slayer, hath been raised to joy and power by the men.
Him, verily, we invocate in battles whether great or small: be
he our aid in fights for spoil.
2For, Hero, thou art like a host, art giver of abundant prey.
Strengthening even the feeble, thou aidest the sacrificer, thou
givest the worshipper ample wealth.
3When war and battles are on foot, booty is laid before the bold. p. 310
Yoke thou thy wildly rushing Bays. Whom wilt thou slay and
whom enrich? Do thou, O Indra, make us rich,
4He, righteous-hearted, at each time of rapture gives us herds of
kine.
Gather in both thy hands for us treasures of many hundred
sorts. Sharpen thou us, and bring us wealth.
5Refresh thee, Hero, with the juice outpoured for bounty and
for strength.
We know thee Lord of ample store, to thee have sent our heart's
desires: be therefore our protector thou.
6These people, Indra, keep for thee all that is worthy of thy
choice.
Discover thou, as Lord, the wealth of men who offer up no
gifts: bring thou to us this wealth of theirs.