2Make our songs penetrate to him who is the Only One of men; For whom the sacred food is spread, as the steer ploughs the barley in.

3Within whose hands deposited all the Five Peoples' treasures rest. Mark thou the man who injures us and kill him like the heavenly bolt.

4Slay everyone who pours no gift, who, hard to reach, delights thee not. Bestow on us what wealth he hath: this even the worshipper awaits.

5Thou helpest him the doubly strong whose hymns were sung unceasingly. When Indra fought, O Soma, thou helpest the mighty in the fray.

6As thou, O Indra, to the ancient singers wast ever joy, like water to the thirsty, So unto thee I sing this invocation. May we find strengthenifig food in full abundance.