Rig Veda, tr. by Ralph T.H. Griffith,  1. CHEER thee with draughts to win us bliss: Soma, pierce Indra in thy strength. Thou stormest trembling in thy rage, and findest not a foeman nigh. 2 Make our songs penetrate to him who is the Only One of men; For whom the sacred food is spread, as the steer ploughs the barley in. 3 Within whose hands deposited all the Five Peoples’ treasures rest. Mark thou the man who injures us and kill him like the heavenly bolt. 4 Slay everyone who pours no gift, who, hard to reach, delights thee not. Bestow on us what wealth he hath: this even the worshipper awaits. 5 Thou helpest him the doubly strong whose hymns were sung unceasingly. When Indra fought, O Soma, thou helpest the mighty in the fray. 6 As thou, O Indra, to the ancient singers wast ever joy, like water to the thirsty, So unto thee I sing this invocation. May we find strengthening food in full abundance.