1a Never art thou barren, O Indra,     Never dost thou fail thy worshipper;     Now more and more is thy divine gift increased,     O bountiful one.     b Thou art taken with a support; to the Adityas thee!     c At no time art thou heedless,     But dost guard the two generations;     The pressing is thy strength, O fourth Aditya     The ambrosia is ready in the sky.     d The sacrificer seeketh the favour of the gods;     Be ye kindly, O Adityas;     May thy lovingkindness come hither,     That it may the more free us from affliction.     e O bright Aditya, this is thy Soma drink,     Delight in it, have gladness in it; may we that gladden thee have gladness;     With the rain of the sky I mix thee.