This cup of Indra’s draught yielded the beloved nectar to Indra; like a fish in Soma’s stream he delighted the god. Hostile hate fled from him like one who is crushed.

May this ambrosia, the appropriate beverage of Indra, of which is fond, be quaffed (by him), so that it may inspire the divinity with favourable feelings (towards us), and that he may remove from us our adversaries, and (all) iniquity.

The cup whence Indra drinks the draught is present: the Amrta dear to Indra hath been drunken, That it may cheer the God to gracious favour, and keep far from us hatred and affliction.