Behold the Marut host, advancing as a mighty bundle, their presence unmistakable. Alongside them comes Mahendra, enveloped and borne aloft by radiant rays across the wide sky. This power, mysterious and sublime, is supported by nine vessels, each set in a ninefold manner, forming the foundation of its strength. He, the great one, gazes out over all creatures, discerning both what breathes and what does not. All power is contained within him alone—he is the sole bearer, the only one. In him, the gods themselves are united; he carries them all within his singular being. Fame and glory, the waters and the sky, Brahmanic radiance, food and all that is eaten—these belong to him. Whoever truly knows this god, the sole bearer, understands that there is no second, no third, nor fourth; no fifth, no sixth, nor seventh; no eighth, no ninth, nor tenth. There is only the one—he who looks out over everything, animate and inanimate. All power is held within him; he is one, the sole bearer, the only one. In him, all the gods are gathered and united. Brahman, ascetic heat, fame, glory, waters, sky, Brahmanic radiance, food, and all that is consumed—these too are his. What has been, what will be, faith, delight, heaven, and offering—all flow from him. Whoever knows this god, the sole bearer, knows the one who is death and immortality, the abyss and the demon. That Rudra is the giver of wealth, the lord of the earth, invoked with words of reverence and the exclamation vaṣaṭ in sacred recitation. All beings, great and small, approach him, seeking his guidance. The stars, together with the moon, are under his command. He is the one who was born from the day, and from him, the day itself was born. He was born from the night, and from him, the night arose. From the midspace he was born, and from him, the midspace came forth. He was born from the wind, and from him, the wind was born. He was born from the sky, and from him, the sky above was born. He was born from the directions, and from him, the directions were born. He was born from the earth, and from him, the earth was born. He was born from fire, and from him, fire was born. He was born from the waters, and from him, the waters were born. From the Ṛg verses he was born, and from him, the Ṛg verses were born. From the sacrifice he was born, and from him, the sacrifice was born. Indeed, he is the sacrifice itself; the sacrifice is his, and it is made the head of the ritual. He thunders and flashes, hurling the stone, wielding power whether for evil or for good, for man or for demon. Whatever is done to the plants, whatever is rained down for good, whatever offspring are increased—all these are encompassed by his greatness. O Maghavan, your greatness is as vast as a hundred of your forms. Your bonds are strong, whether tied with a hundred or a thousand. May you, Indra, be greater than the hostile; may you, Indra, be greater than death. May you be greater than enmity, O lord of strength. You are Indra, all-pervading, all-powerful—thus do we worship you.