He who seeks the favor of Rudra, approaches him with offerings and hymns, pouring out oblations and praise. To Rudra—broad-bellied, easily-invoked, brown-hued, and beautiful-cheeked—let us offer our reverence, that he may grant us his grace. Rudra, the mighty bull who moves with the Maruts, brings us delight. His strength grows ever more abundant, and he does not forsake those who call upon him. Like the shadow that ever follows the sun, so do we seek to remain in the shelter of Rudra’s grace. O Rudra, where is your healing hand, the one that brings remedies and the coolness of water? Remove from us your divine wrath, O mighty bull, and look upon us with favor. To you, brown, mighty, and radiant one, we send forth our greatest praise. We honor you, remover of stains, fierce and resplendent, and worship your powerful name with reverence. With limbs strong and steadfast, with many forms, fierce and brown, adorned with shining golden ornaments, you are the lord of all abundance in the world. None can surpass your sovereignty, Rudra. You are worthy, Rudra, bearer of arrows and bow, adorned with golden ornaments, revered in all your forms. You alone grant every blessing, and none is mightier than you. We praise you, renowned and youthful, dwelling in secret places, fierce as a wild beast and formidable in power. Be gracious to your worshippers, Rudra, and let your hosts of spirits turn away from us, not toward us. As a child bows before his father, so do all bow before you, Rudra, as you approach. You are the giver of abundance and the true lord; when praised, you bestow remedies upon us. Those pure remedies of yours, O Maruts, most auspicious and joyful, chosen by Manu and our fathers—those blessings and delights of Rudra are what we seek. May Rudra’s weapon pass us by; may the great wrath of the fierce one avoid us. Protect those who are generous and be gracious to our children and descendants. Thus, brown, mighty, and wise Rudra, as a god, you neither harm nor injure. Hear our invocation, Rudra; awaken here, that we may speak with strength and greatness in the assembly. The Maruts, powerful in their strength, pour forth streams like fierce wild beasts, shining with energy. Like blazing fires, swift and radiant, they drive away the darkness. They brighten the horizon like the sky streaked with light, flashing like showers of lightning. When Rudra, golden-breasted, was born from Prishni’s shining udder, the Maruts shone forth. They rush forward like horses in battle, their horns sounding. The Maruts, adorned with golden ornaments, roar together, driving their spotted steeds with united purpose. With these spotted horses, they traverse all worlds, companions of Mitra, ever youthful. Unhindered, the Maruts are swift in their actions and steadfast in their ways. With fuel and cows, with nourishing milk, with travelers and paths, their luminous vision spreads. Like swans, united in purpose, the Maruts come to their sisters for the delight of honey. Come to us, O Maruts, united in purpose, as men come to praise at the sacrifices. Nourish the cow at the udder like a horse; grant wisdom and strength to the worshipper. Grant us, O Maruts, the prize-winning chariot that carries our hymn each day. Give food to the singers, strength to the people, prosperity, safety, and unconquerable power. Whenever the Maruts, golden-breasted, harness their horses to their chariots, O generous Bhaga, like a cow nourishing her calf, they pour forth abundant sustenance for those who offer with reverence. If any hostile mortal arises against us, O Maruts, radiant ones, protect us from harm. With your power, turn away the foe, O Rudras—destroy the threat and defeat the enemy. Marvelous is your coming, O Maruts, as witnessed when you drew nourishing streams from Prishni’s udder; or when, O ever-youthful Rudriyas, you invigorate the aged and the weak with your triple strength. Those mighty Maruts, ever advancing, we invoke at Vishnu’s offering. Golden-hued and crowned, they dwell in the heights, and within sacred chants we seek their favor. Those ten-powered ones first awakened the sacrifice; may they inspire us at dawn. Like the radiant Ushas, adorned with red, she fills the world with light, shining with the brilliance of cows. With the earth, with red and shining adornments, O Rudras, you have grown strong in the abode of truth. Swift and powerful, you have taken on a splendid and beautiful form, full of brightness. To those mighty ones, the great protectors, we come with reverence and praise—like Trita seeking help, we invoke you to return and grant us your aid. By which you carry the needy across distress, by which you free the worshipper from harm, let that favor, O Maruts, come to us. May your goodwill, like a cow to her calf, approach us and bring us joy. Eager for strength and eloquence, I approach, hoping that my words may be fruitful. O offspring of the waters, grant us your favor, for you delight in beautiful forms. Let us speak this well-crafted hymn from the heart, so that the wise may know. By the greatness of the sun-born offspring of the waters, the noble one has created all worlds. Some rivers come together, others flow apart, yet all fill the same channel. These pure and shining streams surround the radiant offspring of the waters. The young maidens, shining, circle the youthful one, cleansing him. With bright flames and powerful streams, he shines for us, the kindler, with clarified butter in the waters. Three goddesses, tireless, prepare food for him, the divine one. Like skilled hands, they move in the waters, and he drinks the sweet nourishment of his ancient mothers. Here is the birthplace of the horse and the sun. Protect us from harm and discord, grant us unity among our clans, and let the unassailable one shine so that falsehood and hostility vanish. In his own house, where the cow yields abundantly, he enjoys his own sustenance and good food. So the offspring of the waters, shining within the streams, appears for the giver of wealth. He, pure in the waters and divine, shines endlessly and widely. From him, all other beings are born, and plants grow with their offspring. The offspring of the waters stands upright in the lap of the rivers, clothed in lightning. His greatest majesty is carried by golden-hued swift ones who circle around him. Golden in form and radiance, the offspring of the waters shines with a golden hue. Seated in the golden womb, he gives golden food to those who approach. His face and lovely name ever increase, worthy of praise, the grandson of the waters. The young maidens, well adorned, kindle him—the golden-hued, ghee-offering one. To him, support and companion of many, let us offer sacrifices, reverence, and oblations. I cleanse the summit, seek to reach with offerings, place food, and honor with hymns. He, the bull, generated the embryo within the waters; as a child, he nourishes it, and they cherish him. The son of the waters, flawless in form, has entered here as if with another body. In that highest place where he stands, ever shining with libations, the waters, bearing ghee for the offspring, flow around him by their own acts, honoring the mighty one.