Who knows the birth of these, or who lived in the Maruts’ favor in days of old?
When their spotted deer were yoked?
When they stood upon their cars, did any hear them tell the way they went?
To whom did the bounteous man offer his kindred rains, flowing down with sacrificial food?
To me they told it, and with winged steeds radiant they came,
Youths, heroes free from spot or stain: behold us here, praise us.
Who shine self-luminous with ornaments and swords, with breastplates, armlets, and wreaths,
Arrayed on chariots and with bows.
O swift to pour your bounties down, ye Maruts, with delight I look upon your cars,
Like splendors coming through the rain.
Munificent Heroes, they have cast heaven’s treasury down for the worshipper’s sake:
They set the storm-cloud free to stream through both the worlds, and rainfloods flow over desert spots.
The bursting streams like billowy floods spread abroad, like milch-kine, over the sky.
Like swift steeds hastening to their journey’s end, glittering brooks run to every side.
Hither, O Maruts, come from heaven, from mid-air, or from near at hand.
Tarry not far away from us.
So let not Rasā, Krumu, Anitabha, Kubha, or Sindhu hold you back.
Let not the watery Sarayti obstruct your way. With us be all the bliss ye give.
That brilliant gathering of your cars, the company of Maruts, of the Youthful Ones,
The rain-showers, speeding on, attend.
With eulogies and hymns may we follow your army, troop by troop, and band by band,
And company by company.
To what oblation-giver, sprung of noble ancestry, have sped
The Maruts on this course to-day?
Vouchsafe to us the bounty, that which we implore, through which, for child and progeny,
Ye give the seed of corn that does not wither, and bliss that reaches to all life.
May we in safety pass by those who slander us, leaving behind disgrace and hate.
Maruts, may we be there when ye, at dawn, in rest and toil, rain waters down and balm.
Favoured by Gods shall he the man, O Heroes, Marutr! and possessed of noble sons,
Whom ye