Like clouds pressing milk from the breasts, Indra poured forth the milky black cows. You are the earthly expander of praise; do not let the slanderers abase you, O much-sipped one of heroes.

As Indra, when thundering rases the clouds, so he (heaps upon his worshippers) riches of horses and cattle; yo, Indra, are he ancient upholder of the sacrificer; let not the opulent wrong you, not presenting (oblations).

As Indra thundering impels the rain-clouds, so doth he send us store of kine and horses. Thou art of old the Cherisher of singers let not the rich who bring no gifts deceive thee.