He places the draft to harness the forces, fits the prize, harnesses the chariot. We call upon Indra, the priestly inspirer; the song proclaims the ordinance, the strong rite.

The prompt offers (of praise), with solemn rites combined, acquires food; I bend down with adoration toyou, Indra, the invoker of many, as a carpenter bends the wooden circumference of the wheel.

With Plenty for his true ally the active man will gain the spoil. Your Indra, Much-invoked, I bend with song, as bends a wright his wheel of solid wood.