Sukta 78

Mantra 1

पुरोळाशं नो अन्धस इन्द्र सहस्रमा भर । शता च शूर गोनाम् ॥

Bring to us, O Indra, a thousand measures of the pressed delight, and a hundred rays of illuminating herds, O hero.

Mantra 2

आ नो भर व्यञ्जनं गामश्वमभ्यञ्जनम् । सचा मना हिरण्यया ॥

Bring to us the discerning enrichment—bring the ray-cow and the life-force horse as anointing for our growth—together with the golden-mindedness.

Mantra 3

उत नः कर्णशोभना पुरूणि धृष्णवा भर । त्वं हि शृण्विषे वसो ॥

And bring to us many things that make the inner hearing beautiful; bring them, O bold one—since you indeed listen, O lord of plenitude.

Mantra 4

नकीं वृधीक इन्द्र ते न सुषा न सुदा उत । नान्यस्त्वच्छूर वाघतः ॥

No one, O Indra, can increase you—neither the well-pressers nor the good-givers; nor is there any other than you, O hero, for the striving singer.

Mantra 5

नकीमिन्द्रो निकर्तवे न शक्रः परिशक्तवे । विश्वं शृणोति पश्यति ॥

None can cut him down; none can outmatch the mighty—Indra hears all and sees all.

Mantra 6

स मन्युं मर्त्यानामदब्धो नि चिकीषते । पुरा निदश्चिकीषते ॥

He, undeceivable, perceives and sets down the wrath of mortals; even before it forms, he perceives the hostile impulse.

Mantra 7

क्रत्व इत्पूर्णमुदरं तुरस्यास्ति विधतः । वृत्रघ्नः सोमपाव्नः ॥

By will-force his being is full; for the one who offers, the impetuous Vṛtra-slayer has a brimming inner abundance—he who drinks the Soma and makes it prevail in us.

Mantra 8

त्वे वसूनि संगता विश्वा च सोम सौभगा । सुदात्वपरिह्वृता ॥

In you, O Soma, all the treasures are gathered, and every felicity. You are the good giver, not to be turned away—an unfailing bestower for the inner prosperity.

Mantra 9

त्वामिद्यवयुर्मम कामो गव्युर्हिरण्ययुः । त्वामश्वयुरेषते ॥

It is you, O Soma, whom my desire seeks—seeking the plenitude of nourishment, seeking the rays of illumination and the bright gold of perfected substance; you too are sought by the will that seeks swift powers.

Mantra 10

तवेदिन्द्राहमाशसा हस्ते दात्रं चना ददे । दिनस्य वा मघवन्त्सम्भृतस्य वा पूर्धि यवस्य काशिना ॥

O Indra, it is of you that I hope: into your hand I place even the sickle. O bountiful one, fill for us—whether of today or of what has been stored—the harvest of growth with your shining power.