Hymns of the Atharva Veda, by Ralph T.H. Griffith, [1895], at sacred-texts.com
1In every need, in every fray we call, as friends, to succour us
Indra the mightiest of all.
2If he will hear us let him come with succour of a thousand
kinds,
And all that strengthens, to our call.
3I call him, mighty to resist, the Hero of our ancient home,
Thee whom my sire invoked of old.
4They who stand round him as he moves harness the bright, the
ruddy steed:
The lights are shining in the sky.
5On both sides of the car they yoke the two bay coursers dear to
him,
Bold, tawny, bearers of the thief.
6Thou, making light where no light was, and form, O Men!
where form was not,
Wast born together with the Dawns.