FOR the warrior host, wise and majestic, O Nodhas, bring a pure offering for the Maruts. I adorn my songs as a skilled hand crafts, a wise mind prepares the water that has power in sacred rites.
They spring to life, the lofty ones, the Heavenly Bulls, divine, the youthful ones of Rudra, spotless and clean; Purifiers, shining brightly like suns, terrible in form like giants, scattering raindrops down.
Young Rudras, demon-slayers, never aging, they have grown, like mountains, unstoppable. They shake all beings with their mighty strength, even the strongest, both of earth and sky.
With gleaming ornaments they dress them for display; for beauty they chain their gold around their breasts. Their spears pound the ground, born together, self-created, the Heavens' Men.
Roaring loudly, giving strength, devouring foes, they make the winds and lightning with their might. Restless, they drain the sky's udders, ever wandering, filling the earth with milk.
The generous Maruts, with fatness dripping milk, fill the waters that are needed in sacred rites. They lead the Strong Horse, to rain, and milk the thundering, never-failing spring.
Mighty, with wondrous power and brilliantly bright, self-strong like mountains, you glide swiftly on your way. Like wild elephants, you consume the forests when you assume your strength among the bright red flames.
Exceedingly wise, roaring like lions mightily, you, all-pervading, are beautiful as antelopes; Stirring darkness with spears and spotted deer, combined as priests, with serpent fury through your might.
Heroes marching in companies, befriending man, with serpent fury through strength, you greet the earth and sky. Upon your chariots, O Maruts, stands visible lightning, like light.
Lords of all riches, dwelling in the home of wealth, endowed with mighty vigor, loud singers of voice, Heroes, of infinite powers, armed with strong men's rings, archers, you lay the arrow on your arms.
You who with golden handles make the rain increase drive forward the big clouds like wanderers on the way. Self-moving, brisk, unwearied, you overthrow the firm; the Maruts with bright lances make all things to reel.
We invoke Rudra's offspring with prayer, brisk,