Let us behold the wondrous Maruts, the storm gods, whose chariots bear all auspicious powers, arrayed like rivals striving with vigor. Their ornaments gleam on their shoulders and along their paths, while the axles and wheels turn in harmony, spreading their influence far and wide. Splendid adornments shine upon their noble arms, and golden ornaments, swift and radiant, rest upon their breasts. On their shoulders and on the shafts of their chariots, blades are affixed, arranged like the wings of birds, displaying their splendor. Great in greatness and abundant in abundance, the Maruts possess far-seeing vision, their beauty likened to heavenly beings. They are delightful and eloquent, their voices resounding in song, mingling with Indra as they sing hymns of praise. This is their noble greatness, their enduring gift and vow, steadfast as that of Aditi. Even Indra, mighty as he is, cannot surpass the Maruts by force; their favor is granted to those who act well. Their kinship stretches back to ancient times, when these immortal ones brought blessings and made themselves known to Manu, their shining weapons displayed together. Through long-standing praise and their swift protection, the Maruts have been invoked by the people. When communities spread out, it is through sacrifice that the desired goal is attained. This praise and song are offered to the Maruts by the poet Mandarya, honored among men. May these hymns bring blessings to our bodies, and may we know our people as long-lived and strong. O Indra, a thousand are your helps for us, a thousand riches, you golden one, most praised. A thousand joys for delight are yours; let your thousand-bearing steeds come to us. Let the Maruts also come with their aid, with the eldest among them, with the vast heavens and good wisdom. When their troops reach the farthest shore, they cross even the ocean. Among the Maruts are well-crafted, shining chariots adorned 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 have gone forth, sharing a common path, moving together. Though terrible in might, they do not drive away earth and sky; the gods accept the aged for friendship. When the Maruts desire to join with the Sun, he, swift and praised, fills the two worlds with strength. Like the Sun, he guides the chariot skillfully, his fierce aspect leading it through the sky. The young men set forth the youthful maiden, beautiful and blinking, in the gatherings; and when the sacrificial song is offered, the Soma-pressers sing hymns to the Maruts with devotion. Their greatness is proclaimed, the true majesty of the Maruts. When they unite, the mighty ones, 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 steadfast things are shaken, for the Maruts, generous as they are, increase their gifts. No Marut is the last among them; even from afar, their power reaches its limit. With bold might and shining presence, they roar like fierce waves, surrounding with strength. Today, we are the favorites of Indra, and tomorrow we shall speak in the contest; in times past and in days to come, may the noble Ribhus follow us. This praise and song, again from Mandarya, is offered to the Maruts, worthy of honor; may these hymns be granted to our descendants, and may our people be long-lived. Sacrifice after sacrifice, with united minds, the gods have spread wisdom. We invoke them from nearby for good fortune, with strong hymns seeking great help. Like calves born of their own strength, the streams have produced nourishment and light. Mighty, they move upon the waters, these cows, ever worthy of praise, never ceasing. Like pressed Somas, satisfied and full, the blessed ones drink in the heart; they delight in their flesh like a lush creeper, and 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, the Maruts, with shining vision, shake even the firm things. Who among the Maruts flashes with inner lightning, stirring by his own will, like a tongue striking? He moves on the sands, in pursuit of nourishment, traveling many paths like a youngling, going here and there. Where is the boundary of this vast realm, where is the shelter in which 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 and ripened, desiring to nourish. Their generous gift is auspicious, broad-spread, powerful, restless like a lord. The rivers resound in response to the winds, uttering speech in abundance; lightnings shine upon the earth when the Maruts sprinkle the butter. Prishni has given birth for great battle—the fierce host of the Maruts. Sparkling, they produce the waters, seeking nourishment, observing the offerings all around. This praise and song, once more from Mandarya, is offered to the Maruts; may it be granted to our descendants, and may we know our people as long-lived. O Indra, you are great, and from you come these mighty ones; you are the protector of the powerful. May the wise creator, knowing the Maruts, grant us favor, for we are your favorites. 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. Indra’s protection is here for us; the Maruts drive away the hostile one with their strength. Even Agni, blazing, supports Indra; like waters bearing an island, they carry forth his paths. Indra grants to us mighty wealth, as a generous gift, like a reward for skill. And those winds whom Vāyu has praised, fill the breast with riches like streams of honey. In Indra are placed the most delightful riches, leaders of the righteous. May the Maruts show us mercy, guiding the path as gods of old. Come forth, Indra, to the generous men; strive for greatness in the earthly seat. Here, those of broad foundation, noble ones, have stood firm at the crossing of heroic deeds. Hear, O Indra, the call of these fierce, tireless Maruts; let the answer come near. With their might, they protect the mortal who seeks battle, not letting him fall. Indra, with the Maruts, grants all kinds of wealth to those who praise him, strong in battle with the strength of bulls. With these hymns, he is praised, god among gods; may we know our people as long-lived and victorious. Yet, there is truly no today or tomorrow; who knows what is wondrous? The mind of another is hard to follow, and even what is learned is lost. Why, Indra, do you wish to harm us? The Maruts are your brothers. Act together with them in goodness; do not strike us down in battle. Why, O brother Agastya, though you are a friend, do you think ill of us? We know your mind, how you do not wish to give to us. Let them prepare the altar well, and kindle the fire in front. There, let us bring the awareness of immortality and offer the sacrifice. Thus, the story of the Maruts, Indra, and the gods unfolds—a tale of greatness, protection, wisdom, and sacrifice, echoing through the hymns and praises of the sages, seeking blessings for the people, long-lived, strong, and victorious.