Whatever Vritra once attempted to raise against Indra, all that is now under thy power.

Whatsoever, O Sun, slayr of Vṛtra, you have risen upon today-- it is all, Indra, under your power.

The matchless draught that strengthens and gives eloquence, the sweetest of the meath drink thou, That in thy joy thou maysi scatter thy gifts o'er us, plenteously, even as the dust.