Atharva Veda: Book 20: Hymn 137: A composite hymn in praise of Indra
Hymns of the Atharva Veda, by Ralph T.H. Griffith, [1895]
1When, foul with secret spot and stain, ye hastened onward to
the breast.
All Indra's enemies were slain and passed away like froth and
foam.
2Indra is he, O men, who gives us happiness: sport, urge the
giver of delight to win the spoil.
Bring quickly down, O priests, hither to give us aid, to drink
the Soma, Indra son of Nishtigri.
3So have I glorified with praise strong Dadhikrāvan, conquering
steed.
Sweet may he make our mouths; may he prolong the days we
have to live.
4The Somas very rich in sweets, for which the sieve is destined,
flow,
Effused, the source of Indra's joy. May your strong juices reach
the Gods.
5Indu flows on for Indra's sake—thus have the deities declared.
The Lord of Speech exerts himself, ruler of all, because of
might.
6Inciter of the voice of song, with thousand streams the ocean
flows,
Even Soma, Lord of Opulence, the friend of Indra, day by day.
7The black drop sank in Ansumati's bosom, advancing with ten
thousand round about it.
Indra with might longed for it as it panted: the hero-hearted
laid aside his weapons.
8I saw the drop in the far distance moving, on the slope bank of
Ansumati's river,
Like a black cloud that sank into the water. Heroes. I send you
forth. Go, fight in battle.
9And then the drop in Ansumati's bosom, splendid with light,
assumed its proper body;
And Indra with Brihaspati to aid him, conquered the godless
tribes that came against him.
10Then, at thy birth, thou wast the foeman, Indra, of those the
seven who ne'er had met a rival. p. 374
The hidden pair, the heaven and earth, thou foundest, and to
the mighty worlds thou gavest pleasure.
11So, Thunder-armed! thou with thy bolt of thunder didst boldly
smite that power which none might equal;
With weapons broughtest low the might of Sushna, and, Indra,
foundest by thy strength the cattle.
12We make this Indra very strong to strike the mighty Vritra
dead:
A vigorous Hero shall he be.
13Indra was made for giving, set, most mighty, o'er the joyous
draught,
Bright, meet for Soma, famed in song.
14By song, as 'twere, the powerful bolt which none may parry was
prepared:
Lofty, invincible he grew.