Rig Veda
abhi no vājasātamaṃ rayim arṣa puruspṛham indo sahasrabharṇasaṃ tuvidyumnaṃ vibhvāsaham
Stream on us riches that are sought by many, best at winning strength Riches, O Indu, thousand fold, glorious, conquering the great.
This verse is not included in this edition.
Effused, he hath, as on a car, invested him in fleecy mail: Onward hath Indu flowed in streams, impelled, surrounded by the wood.
pari ṣya suvāno akṣā indur avye madacyutaḥ dhārā ya ūrdhvo adhvare bhrājā naiti gavyayuḥ
Effused, this Indu hath flowed on, distilling rapture, to the fleece: He goes erect, as seeking kine in stream, with light, to sacrifice.
sa hi tvaṃ deva śaśvate vasu martāya dāśuṣe indo sahasriṇaṃ rayiṃ śatātmānaṃ vivāsasi
For thou thyself, O Indu, God, to every mortal worshipper Attractest riches thousandfold, made manifest in hundred forms.
vayaṃ te asya vṛtrahan vaso vasvaḥ puruspṛhaḥ ni nediṣṭhatamā iṣaḥ syāma sumnasyādhrigo
Good Vritra-slayer, may we be still nearest to this wealth of thine Which many crave, nearest to food and happiness, Resistless One!
dvir yam pañca svayaśasaṃ svasāro adrisaṃhatam priyam indrasya kāmyam prasnāpayanty ūrmiṇam
Whom, bright with native splendour, crushed between the pair of pressing stones The wavy Friend whom Indra loves-the twice-five sisters dip and bathe,
pari tyaṃ haryataṃ harim babhrum punanti vāreṇa yo devān viśvāṁ it pari madena saha gacchati
Him with the fleece they purify, brown, golden-hued, beloved of all, Who with exhilarating juice goes forth to all the Deities.
This verse is not included in this edition.
Through longing for this sap of yours ye drink what brings ability, Even him who, dear as heaven's own light, gives to our princes high renown.
sa vāṃ yajñeṣu mānavī indur janiṣṭa rodasī devo devī giriṣṭhā asredhan taṃ tuviṣvaṇi
Indu at holy rites produced you, Heaven and Earth, the Friends of men, Hill-haunting God the Goddesses. They bruised him where the roar was loud.
indrāya soma pātave vṛtraghne pari ṣicyase nare ca dakṣiṇāvate devāya sadanāsade
For Vritra-slaying Indra, thou, Soma, art poured that he may drink, Poured for the guerdon-giving man, poured for the God who sitteth there.
te pratnāso vyuṣṭiṣu somāḥ pavitre akṣaran apaprothantaḥ sanutar huraścitaḥ prātas tāṁ apracetasaḥ
These ancient Somas, at the break of day, have flowed into the sieve, Snorting away at early morn these foolish evil-hearted ones.
taṃ sakhāyaḥ purorucaṃ yūyaṃ vayaṃ ca sūrayaḥ aśyāma vājagandhyaṃ sanema vājapastyam
Friends, may the princes, ye and we, obtain this Most Resplendent One. Gain him who hath the smell of strength, win him whose home is very strength.