yacciddhi satya somapā anāśastā iva smasi ā tū na indra śaṃsaya goṣv aśveṣu śubhriṣu sahasreṣu tuvīmagha
O soma drinker, ever true, utterly hopeless though we be, Do thou, O Indra, give us hope of beauteous horses and of kine, In thousands, O most wealthy One.