As dawn approaches, the poet, inspired by wisdom and devotion, invokes the Maruts for the sake of the day. His hymns, filled with reverence, make the people worthy of honor, and he calls the Maruts to listen to his praise. The singer’s song is offered to these mighty deities, a tribute to their greatness, and he wishes that this praise may bring strength and longevity to his people. Now, let us recount the ancient greatness of the Maruts—the eager ones, the powerful sons of Rudra, whose birth is marked by a mighty sign. Like fire newly kindled, they surge forth with strength, like warriors in battle, performing wondrous deeds. Ever joyful, they bring sweetness to their assemblies, playing with vigor. The Rudras, generous in favor, never harm the reverent nor the devoted sacrificer; instead, they bestow blessings upon those who offer oblations with devotion, pouring forth abundant waters like friendly companions across the many regions. With their might, the Maruts stretch out the realms, their strength moving unrestrained. All beings and dwellings tremble before their wondrous approach, especially as their streaming showers descend. When their force makes the mountains resound and shakes the lofty sky, even the trees tremble and the herbs flee as if driven by chariots. The Maruts, with wise counsel, protect the unharmed hosts and grant favor. Where their lightning flashes and storms roar, cattle scatter as if seeking shelter. Unwearied in giving, firm in strength, the Maruts are praised in assemblies, singing to the sun for the joy of the intoxicating Soma. They know the foremost deeds of the heroic one. With a hundred arms, they protect those whom they favor, defending the people with fierce, radiant power and bringing prosperity to their offspring. All auspicious powers are placed in their chariots, adorned with ornaments on their shoulders and paths, the wheels and axles turning together and spreading far. Their noble arms bear splendid adornments, golden ornaments shining and swift on their breasts, blades on their shoulders and shafts, their splendors arranged like wings on birds. Great in greatness, abundant in abundance, the Maruts are far-seeing, beautiful like heavenly beings. Delightful and well-spoken, their voices resound in song, mingling with Indra as they sing the stotra. Their noble greatness and long-lasting gifts are like the vow of Aditi, unsurpassed even by Indra’s force. They grant favor to those who act well. Their kinship, ancient and immortal, brings blessings, and together, with shining weapons, they have made themselves known to Manu. Through long praise and protection, the Maruts have been honored, swift in their blessings. When the people spread out, the poet prays that sacrifices may help attain the desired goal. This praise, offered by Mandarya, is for the Maruts, wishing well for the body and seeking knowledge of a people who are long-lived and strong. Indra, the golden one, is invoked next, praised for his thousandfold helps, riches, and joys. The poet calls for the thousand-bearing steeds to come. He asks the Maruts to come with their aid, with the eldest among them, with the great heavens and good wisdom. When their troops reach the farthest shore, they can even cross the ocean. Among the Maruts are shining, well-made chariots, with golden fittings, sharp as spears. Their speech, moving secretly like a woman among men, comes together in the assembly. The bright and swift Maruts move forth, sharing a common path. Though terrible, they do not drive away earth and sky, and the gods accept the aged for friendship. When the Maruts desire to join with the Sun, they fill the two worlds with strength. Like the Sun, they guide their chariot skillfully, their fierce aspect leading it through the sky. The young men set forth the youthful maiden, beautiful and blinking, in gatherings. When the sacrificial song is offered, the Soma-pressers sing the hymn with devotion to the Maruts. The poet proclaims their true greatness—the majesty of the Maruts. When they unite, even the firm-born and blessed are carried forth by their power. Mitra and Varuna protect from blame, and Yama removes the unworthy. Even the fixed and steadfast things are shaken, for the generous Maruts increase their gifts. None among the Maruts is the last; even from afar, their power reaches its limit. With bold might and shining strength, they roar like waves, fierce and surrounding with force. Today, the people are favorites of Indra; tomorrow, they will speak in contest. In times past and days to come, may the noble Ribhus follow them. The praise, offered by Mandarya, is for the Maruts, wishing it for their descendants, and seeking knowledge of a people who are long-lived. Sacrifice after sacrifice, with united minds, the gods have spread wisdom. They are invoked from nearby for good fortune, with strong hymns for great help. Like calves born of their own strength, the streams produce nourishment and light. Mighty, they move upon the waters, these cows, worthy of praise, never ceasing. Like pressed Somas, satisfied and full, the blessed ones drink in the heart and sit together. In their flesh, like a lush creeper, they delight; in their hands, food and work are placed together. Self-yoked from heaven, the immortals come swiftly, urged by their own will. Born of dust, they shake even the firm things, the Maruts with shining vision. Among the Maruts, one flashes with inner lightning, stirring by his own will like a tongue striking. Moving on the sands in pursuit of nourishment, he travels many paths like a youngling, going here and there. The poet wonders about the boundary of this vast realm and the shelter where the Maruts have arrived. When they shake together the gathered things, like a winnower, they fly over the mighty ocean with force. Their protection is helpful, full of light, fierce, ripened, and desiring to nourish. Their generous gift is auspicious, broad-spread, powerful, restless like a lord. The rivers resound in response to the winds, uttering abundant speech. Lightnings shine upon the earth when the Maruts sprinkle the butter. Prishni has given birth to the fierce host of the Maruts for great battle. Sparkling, they produce the waters, seeking nourishment, observing the offerings all around. The praise, offered by Mandarya, is for the Maruts, wishing it for descendants and seeking knowledge of a long-lived people. Indra is addressed once more, recognized as great and the protector of the powerful. From him come the mighty Maruts. The wise creator, knowing the Maruts, is asked to grant favor, for the people are Indra’s favorites. Indra, the unyoked ones, have set in motion all peoples. The wise, unopposed by mortals, shine forth in the Maruts’ contest, battling for the sun-filled prize. Thus, through the inspired hymns and the sacred narrative, the greatness, power, and blessings of the Maruts and Indra are revealed. The poet’s praise and devotion weave together the story of their ancient kinship, their mighty deeds, and the hope for enduring strength, wisdom, and prosperity for all people.