The Maruts, radiant and swift, set forth together as if sharing a common path, their movement harmonious and powerful. Though they are fierce and awe-inspiring, they do not disrupt the earth and sky; rather, the gods accept even the aged into their friendship. When one among them seeks to join with the Sun, filled with strength and praised for his speed, he fills both worlds with his might. Like the Sun himself, he skillfully guides his chariot, his fierce aspect leading the way through the heavens. In sacred gatherings, the young men present the youthful maiden, beautiful and blinking. When the sacrificial song is raised to the Maruts, the Soma-pressers sing with devotion, offering hymns in their honor. I proclaim the greatness of the Maruts, their true majesty. When these mighty ones unite, even those firmly established 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 generous Maruts increase their gifts. Among you, Maruts, none is last for us; even from afar, your power reaches its utmost. With bold might and shining vigor, you roar like fierce waves, encircling all with your strength. Today, we are favored by Indra, and tomorrow we shall speak in the contest; in times past and in the days to come, may the noble Ribhus accompany us. This praise, Maruts, this song, is from the poet Mandarya, worthy of honor; may our descendants receive this blessing, and may our people be long-lived. Sacrifice after sacrifice, with united minds, you, O gods, have spread wisdom. We call you from nearby for good fortune, with strong hymns, seeking your great help. Like calves born of their own strength, the streams bring forth nourishment and light; mighty and tireless, they move upon the waters—these cows, ever-praiseworthy, never ceasing. Like pressed Somas, satisfied and full, the blessed ones drink in the heart, sitting content. In their flesh, like a lush creeper, they delight; food and work are placed together in their hands. Self-yoked from heaven, the immortals come swiftly, moved by their own will; born of dust, the Maruts shake even the firm things, their vision shining. Who among you, Maruts, flashes with inner lightning, stirring by his own will, like a tongue striking? He moves on the sands, seeking nourishment, following many paths, wandering like a youngling. Where, indeed, is the boundary of this vast realm, where is the shelter where the Maruts have arrived? When you shake together the gathered things, like a winnower, you fly with force over the mighty ocean. Your protection, Maruts, is helpful, full of light, fierce and ripened, desiring to nourish. Your generous gift is auspicious, wide-spread and powerful, restless like a lord. The rivers resound in response to the winds, uttering their speech in abundance; lightning shines upon the earth when the Maruts sprinkle the clarified butter. Prishni has given birth to the fierce host of the Maruts for great battle; sparkling, they have produced the waters, seeking nourishment, ever mindful of the offerings around them. This praise, Maruts, this song, is from the poet Mandarya, worthy of honor; may this be granted to our descendants, may we know this people, 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. O Indra, the unyoked ones set in motion all the peoples; the wise Maruts, unopposed by mortals, shine forth in the contest for the sun-filled prize. Your protection, Indra, is here for us; the Maruts drive away the hostile with their strength. Even Agni, blazing, supports you; like waters bearing an island, they carry forth your paths. Indra, grant us that wealth, most mighty, as a generous gift, like a reward for skill. And those winds whom you have praised, O Vāyu, fill the heart with riches like streams of honey. In you, Indra, the most delightful riches are placed—leaders of the righteous, whoever they may be. May those Maruts show us mercy, who, like gods of old, have always guided the path. Come forth, Indra, to the generous men; strive for greatness in the earthly seat. Here, those of broad foundation, these 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 do not let the mortal who seeks battle fall, but protect him with their power. 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 this people, long-lived and victorious. Truly, there is no today or tomorrow; who knows what is wondrous? The mind of another is hard to follow; even what is learned may be 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 before us. There let us bring the awareness of immortality and offer you the sacrifice. You are the lord of wealth, master of treasures, the best of friends, O lord of friendship. Indra, speak together with the Maruts; then, accept the offerings in due order. With reverence, I approach you with this hymn, seeking the favor of the swift ones. O Maruts, givers of worthy gifts, remove reproach and release the horses. This praise, O Maruts, is offered to you with reverence, shaped in the heart and mind. Come here, accepting with your minds, for you are indeed strengthened by reverence. May the praised Maruts show us mercy, and may the gracious Maghavan do so as well. May our pleasant woods stand upright, and may the Maruts grant us victory every day. From this strength I seek protection, fleeing in fear from Indra, O Maruts. May the sharp offerings be for you; we have acted differently—show us mercy. By whom the mornings and bright dawns are counted, with the enduring strength of the mighty—may he, the bull with the Maruts, grant us fame, steadfast and strong. Protect us, Indra, with those who are stronger; be with the Maruts, warding off reproach. With good guidance and victory, may we know this people, long-lived and victorious. Let your approach be splendid, your aid resplendent, O generous Maruts, shining like serpents. Let your sharp weapon be far away, O generous Maruts; far away may you cast the stone, O mighty ones. Around the dwelling of Tṛṇaskanda, you spread, O generous ones; raise us upright for life.