and crushing, so, O Maruts, is your gift delightful,
like the largess of a liberal worshipper, wide-spreading,
laughing like heavenly lightning. From the tires
of their chariot-wheels streams gush forth, when they
send out the voice of the clouds; the lightnings smiled
upon the earth, when the Maruts shower down fatness.
Prisni brought forth for the great fight the terrible
train of the untiring Maruts: when fed they produced
the dark cloud, and then looked about for invigorating
food. May this praise, O Maruts, this song of
Mandarya, the son of Mana, the poet, ask you with food
for offspring for ourselves! May we have an invigorating
autumn, with quickening rain!
The Maruts charged with rain, endowed with fierce
force, terrible like wild beasts, blazing in their
strength, brilliant like fires, and impetuous, have
uncovered the rain-giving cows by blowing away the
cloud. The Maruts with their rings appeared like
the heavens with their stars, they shone wide like
streams from clouds as soon as Rudra, the strong man,
was born for you, O golden-breasted Maruts, in the
bright lap of Prisni. They wash their horses
like racers in the courses, they hasten with the points
of the reed on their quick steeds. O golden-jawed
Maruts, violently shaking your jaws, you go quick with
your spotted deer, being friends of one mind.
Those Maruts have grown to feed all these beings,
or, it may be, they have come hither for the sake of
a friend, they who always bring quickening rain.
They have spotted horses, their bounties cannot be
taken away, they are like headlong charioteers on
their ways. O Maruts, wielding your brilliant
spears, come hither on smooth roads with your fiery
cows whose udders are swelling; being of one mind,
like swans toward their nests, to enjoy the sweet offering.
O one-minded Maruts, come to our prayers, come to
our libations like Indra praised by men! Fulfil
our prayer, like the udder of a barren cow, and make
the prayer glorious by booty to the singer. Grant
us this strong horse for our chariot, a draught that
rouses our prayers, from day to day, food to the singers,
and to the poet in our homesteads luck, wisdom, inviolable
and invincible strength. When the gold-breasted
Maruts harness the horses to their chariots, bounteous
in wealth, then it is as if a cow in the folds poured
out to her calf copious food, to every man who has
offered libations. Whatever mortal enemy may have
placed us among wolves, shield us from hurt, ye Vasus!
Turn the wheels with burning heat against him, and
strike down the weapon of the impious fiend, O Rudras!
Your march, O Maruts, appears brilliant, whether even
friends have milked the udder of Prisni, or whether,
O sons of Rudra, you mean to blame him who praises
you, and to weaken those who are weakening Trita,
O unbeguiled heroes. We invoke you, the great
Maruts, the constant wanderers, at the offering of
the rapid Vishnu; holding ladles and prayerful we
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