For the manly host, the joyful, the wise, for the
Maruts bring thou, O Nodhas, a pure offering.
I prepare songs, like as a handy priest, wise in his
mind, prepares the water, mighty at sacrifices.
They are born, the tall bulls of heaven, the manly
youths of Rudra, the divine, the blameless, pure,
and bright like suns; scattering raindrops, full of
terrible designs, like giants. The youthful Rudras,
they who never grow old, the slayers of the demon,
have grown irresistible like mountains. They
throw down with their strength all beings, even the
strongest, on earth and in heaven. They deck
themselves with glittering ornaments for a marvellous
show; on their chests they fastened gold chains for
beauty; the spears on their shoulders pound to pieces;
they were born together by themselves, the men of
Dyu. They who confer power, the roarers, the
devourers of foes, they made winds and lightnings by
their powers. The shakers milk the heavenly udders,
they sprinkle the earth all round with milk.
The bounteous Maruts pour forth water, mighty at sacrifices,
the fat milk of the clouds. They seem to lead
about the powerful horse, the cloud, to make it rain;
they milk the thundering, unceasing spring. Mighty
they are, powerful, of beautiful splendor, strong in
themselves like mountains, yet swiftly gliding along;—you
chew up forests, like wild elephants, when you have
assumed your powers among the red flames. Like
lions they roar, the wise Maruts, they are handsome
like gazelles, the all-knowing. By night with
their spotted rain-clouds and with their spears—lightnings—they
rouse the companions together, they whose ire through
strength is like the ire of serpents. You who
march in companies, the friends of man, heroes, whose
ire through strength is like the ire of serpents,
salute heaven and earth! On the seats on your
chariots, O Maruts, the lightning stands, visible like
light. All-knowing, surrounded with wealth, endowed
with powers, singers, men of endless prowess, armed
with strong rings, they, the archers, have taken the
arrow in their fists. The Maruts who with the
golden tires of their wheels increase the rain, stir
up the clouds like wanderers on the road. They
are brisk, indefatigable, they move by themselves;
they throw down what is firm, the Maruts with their
brilliant spears make everything to reel. We
invoke with prayer the offspring of Rudra, the brisk,
the pure, the worshipful, the active. Cling for
happiness-sake to the strong company of the Maruts,
the chasers of the sky, the powerful, the impetuous.
The mortal whom ye, Maruts, protected, he indeed surpasses
people in strength through your protection. He
carries off booty with his horses, treasures with
his men; he acquires honorable wisdom, and he prospers.
Give, O Maruts, to our lords strength glorious, invincible
in battle, brilliant, wealth-acquiring, praiseworthy,
known to all men. Let us foster our kith and
kin during a hundred winters. Will you then,
O Maruts, grant unto us wealth, durable, rich in men,
defying all onslaughts?—wealth a hundred
and a thousand-fold, always increasing?—May
he who is rich in prayers come early and soon!
