2The smith with ripe and seasoned plants, with feathers of the birds of air, With stones, and with enkindled flames, seeks him who hath a store of gold. Flow, Indu, flow for Indra's sake.

3A bard am I, my dad's a leech, mammy lays corn upon the stones. Striving for wealth, with varied plans, we follow our desires like kine. Flow, Indu, flow for Indra's sake.

4The horse would draw an easy car, gay hosts attract the laugh and jest. The male desires his mate's approach, the frog is eager for the flood, Flow, Indu, flow for Indra's sake.