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The black drop sank in Ansumati’s bosom, advancing with ten thousand round about it. Indra with might longed for it as it panted. Flying in terror from the snort of Vritra (negative force represented by a serpent), all deities who were thy friends forsook Thee. So, Indra, with the Maruts (storm deities) be Thy friendship: in all these (spiritual) battles Thou shalt be the victor. The old hath waked the young Moon from his slumber who runs his circling course with many round him. Behold the God’s high wisdom in its greatness: he who died yesterday, today is living. Then, at Thy birth, Thou wast the foeman, Indra, of those the seven who ne’er had met a rival. The hidden pair, Heaven and the Earth, Thou foundest, and to the mighty worlds Thou gavest pleasure.
