1 For Him the Mornings made their courses longer, and Nights with pleasant voices spake to the Lord.

For Him the Floods stood still, the Seven Mothers, Streams easy for the heroes to pass over.

2 The Darter penetrated, though in trouble, thrice-seven close-pressed ridges of the mountains.

Neither might angel nor mortal man accomplish what the Strong Hero wrought in full-grown vigour.

3 The mightiest force is the Lord's bolt of iron when firmly grasped.

All His people hasten near to listen.

4 I count Thee as the Holiest of the Holy, the caster-down of what hath ne'er been shaken.

I count Thee as the Banner of the heroes, I count Thee as the Chief of all men living.

5 What time, O Lord, in Thine arms Thou tookest Thy wildly rushing bolt to slay the Dragon,

The mountains roared, the cattle loudly bellowed, the scholars with their hymns drew nigh to the Lord.

6 Let us praise Him who made these worlds and creatures, all things that after Him sprang into being.

May we win His favour with our songs, and wait upon our Lord with adoration.

7 Flying in terror from the snort of Vrtra, the faint-hearted forsook Thee.

So, O Lord, be Thy friendship with the angels: in all these battles Thou shalt be the victor.

8 Thrice-sixty angels, waxing strong, were with Thee, like piles of beaming light, worthy of respect.

We come to Thee: grant us a happy portion. Let us adore Thy might with this offering.

9 A sharpened weapon is the host of angels. Who, O Lord, dares withstand Thy bolt of thunder?

Weaponless are the oppressors, the godless: scatter them with Thy wheel, Impetuous Hero.

10 To Him the Strong and Mighty, most auspicious, send up the beauteous hymn for sake of cattle.

Lay before Him many songs, invoked with song, for will not He regard them?

11 To Him, the Mighty, who accepts laudation, send forth thy thought as by a boat o'er rivers,

Stir with thy hymn the heart of the Famous and Dearest One, for will not He regard it?

12 Serve Him with gifts of thine which He welcomes: praise with fair praise, invite Him with thine homage.

Draw near, O singer, and refrain from outcry. Make thy voice heard, for will not He regard it?

16 Then, O Lord, Thou wast the foeman of those seven who ne'er had met a rival.

The hidden Pair, the Heaven and Earth, Thou foundest, and to the mighty worlds Thou gavest pleasure.

17 So, Thunder-armed! Thou with Thy bolt of thunder didst boldly smite that power which none might equal;

With weapons broughtest low the might of Susna, and, O Lord, foundest by Thy strength the cattle.

18 Then wast Thou, Chieftain of all living mortals, the very mighty slayer of the Vrtras.

Then didst Thou set the obstructed rivers flowing, and win the floods that were enthralled by Dasas.

19 Most wise is He, rejoicing in gifts, splendid as day, resistless in His anger.

He only doth great deeds, the only Hero, sole Vrtra-slayer He, with none beside Him.

20 The Lord is Vrtra's slayer, man's sustainer: He must be called; with fair praise let us call Him.

The Bountiful is our Helper, our Protector, giver of spoil and wealth to make us famous.

21 This Lord, Vrtra-slayer, this Rbhuksan, was meet for invocation.

Doer of many deeds for man's advantage, like Soma received, for friends we must invoke Him.