Indra, the Supreme God
1
Highest of Immortals bright,
God of gods by lofty might,
He, before whose prowess high
Tremble earth and upper sky,
He is, — mortals, hear my verse, —
Indra, Lord of Universe!
2
He, who fixed the staggering earth,
Shaped the mountains at their birth,
Sky's blue vault held up and bent,
Measured out the firmament,
He is, — listen to my verse, —
Indra, Lord of Universe!
3
He, who quelled the cloud-fiend's might,
Rolled the seven great rivers bright,
Pierced the caverns of the gloom,
Conquered bright kine from its womb,
Lit the lightning's fire of old,
He is Indra, warrior bold!
4
He, who shaped with cunning hand
Wonders of the sea and land,
Quelled the Aryan's impious foe,
Doomed the Dasa to his woe,
Robbed the bandit in his hold,
He is Indra, hunter bold!
5
Have you, doubting, questioned me, —
Where is Indra, who is He?
Mortals, in your impious thought
Have you whispered, — He is not!
Jealous God! In vengeance dire
He can smite ye in his ire!
6
But his ceaseless mercies seek
High and lowly, strong and weak,
Priest who chants his sacred lays,
Worshipper who sings his praise,
Him who on the altar's flame,
Pours libations to his name!
7
His the kine and steeds of war,
Village home and battle car;
His right arm uplifts the sun,
Opes the ruddy gates of dawn;
His red bolt the dark cloud rends,
Grateful showers for mortals sends!
8
Hosts advancing to the fray
Cry to him on battle's day;
And the strong man shouts his fame,
And the lowly lisps his name;
Warrior-chief on battle-car
Prays to Indra, God of war!
9
We but triumph by his blade,
Nations court his friendly aid;
Moveless hills that heavenward tower
Tremble at his mighty power;
And the world so vast and broad,
Images the mighty God!
10
Swift his weapons, red and dire,
To the impious speak his ire;
And his favours never rain
On the boastful and the vain;
And his red right hand can smite
Godless Dasas in the fight!
11
For he slew Sambara bold,
Sheltered in his mountain hold,
In the fortieth autumn-tide;
Slew the dragon in his pride,
Vritra, rain-withholding cloud,
Titan of the inky shroud!
12
Seven bright rays bedeck his bow,
Seven great rivers from his flow;
Thunder-armed, quick to ire,
He, in vengeance swift and dire,
Laid the proud Rauhina low,
Heaven-aspiring impious foe!
13
Earth and sky confess his sway,
Trembling hills obeisance pay;
Wielder of the bolt of heaven,
Be to him libations given; —
He accepts this Soma wine,
Listens to this lay of mine!
14
Brew the Soma fresh and fair,
Pour libations rich and rare,
For he blesses when we pray,
Helps the singer of his lay; —
He accepts this Soma wine,
Listens to this lay of mine!
15
Mighty Indra, strong and true,
Hymns to thee and gifts are due,
And our priests libations pour
For thy blessings' endless store;
Speak to us, — for thou art near, —
Let our brave sons know no fear!
Highest of Immortals bright,
God of gods by lofty might,
He, before whose prowess high
Tremble earth and upper sky,
He is, — mortals, hear my verse, —
Indra, Lord of Universe!
2
He, who fixed the staggering earth,
Shaped the mountains at their birth,
Sky's blue vault held up and bent,
Measured out the firmament,
He is, — listen to my verse, —
Indra, Lord of Universe!
3
He, who quelled the cloud-fiend's might,
Rolled the seven great rivers bright,
Pierced the caverns of the gloom,
Conquered bright kine from its womb,
Lit the lightning's fire of old,
He is Indra, warrior bold!
4
He, who shaped with cunning hand
Wonders of the sea and land,
Quelled the Aryan's impious foe,
Doomed the Dasa to his woe,
Robbed the bandit in his hold,
He is Indra, hunter bold!
5
Have you, doubting, questioned me, —
Where is Indra, who is He?
Mortals, in your impious thought
Have you whispered, — He is not!
Jealous God! In vengeance dire
He can smite ye in his ire!
6
But his ceaseless mercies seek
High and lowly, strong and weak,
Priest who chants his sacred lays,
Worshipper who sings his praise,
Him who on the altar's flame,
Pours libations to his name!
7
His the kine and steeds of war,
Village home and battle car;
His right arm uplifts the sun,
Opes the ruddy gates of dawn;
His red bolt the dark cloud rends,
Grateful showers for mortals sends!
8
Hosts advancing to the fray
Cry to him on battle's day;
And the strong man shouts his fame,
And the lowly lisps his name;
Warrior-chief on battle-car
Prays to Indra, God of war!
9
We but triumph by his blade,
Nations court his friendly aid;
Moveless hills that heavenward tower
Tremble at his mighty power;
And the world so vast and broad,
Images the mighty God!
10
Swift his weapons, red and dire,
To the impious speak his ire;
And his favours never rain
On the boastful and the vain;
And his red right hand can smite
Godless Dasas in the fight!
11
For he slew Sambara bold,
Sheltered in his mountain hold,
In the fortieth autumn-tide;
Slew the dragon in his pride,
Vritra, rain-withholding cloud,
Titan of the inky shroud!
12
Seven bright rays bedeck his bow,
Seven great rivers from his flow;
Thunder-armed, quick to ire,
He, in vengeance swift and dire,
Laid the proud Rauhina low,
Heaven-aspiring impious foe!
13
Earth and sky confess his sway,
Trembling hills obeisance pay;
Wielder of the bolt of heaven,
Be to him libations given; —
He accepts this Soma wine,
Listens to this lay of mine!
14
Brew the Soma fresh and fair,
Pour libations rich and rare,
For he blesses when we pray,
Helps the singer of his lay; —
He accepts this Soma wine,
Listens to this lay of mine!
15
Mighty Indra, strong and true,
Hymns to thee and gifts are due,
And our priests libations pour
For thy blessings' endless store;
Speak to us, — for thou art near, —
Let our brave sons know no fear!
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