As the sons of Atri prepared their sacred offering, they invoked Agni, the radiant fire, to come forth for the contest, accompanied by Mitra and Varuṇa, by Soma and Viṣṇu. They called again to Agni, asking him to bring with him the shining hosts of the Ādityas, the Vasus, mighty Indra, and swift Vāyu, to accept their pressed libation and be present at their side. With hearts full of devotion, they prayed for well-being from all directions. “May Bhaga, and the twin Aśvins, bestow well-being upon us. May the gracious goddess Aditi, ever free from harm, keep us safe. May Pūṣan, the mighty guardian, and the wise Heaven and Earth, with their good counsel, grant us prosperity and peace.” Seeking blessings for their journey, they called upon Vāyu for well-being, upon Soma, lord of the world, and upon Bṛhaspati, lord of all hosts, asking that the Ādityas too bring them happiness and protection. “May all the gods today grant us well-being,” they intoned, “may Agni Vaiśvānara, the beneficent, shower us with his blessings. May the gods and the ancestors, and Rudra, fierce yet compassionate, guard us from harm and grant us peace.” Again, they turned to Mitra and Varuṇa, to the bountiful goddess of the path, to Indra and Agni, and to Aditi, beseeching well-being from each. They prayed, “May we walk always on the path of well-being, shining like the sun and moon. May we return unharmed, enriched in wisdom and generosity, and may we gather together again in unity.” Then, O Śyāvāśva, the seer, was called to raise his voice in bold hymns, praising the Maruts—the storm gods—who delight in sincere offerings and are ever worthy of sacrifice. For the Maruts are steadfast friends, bold and strong in their own power, always protecting mortals from harm. Swift as rushing streams, surpassing the darkness of night, their greatness is sought both in heaven and on earth. Let sacrifices and praises be offered to the Maruts, those ancient protectors of mortals, whose noble and generous spirits possess unassailable strength. In battle, adorned with golden ornaments, they let loose their spears, and the flashes of their lightning roar like women in labor, while the sun shines by its own power in the sky. Some Maruts dwell on earth, some in the wide midspace, others in the gathering of rivers, or in the lofty abode of the sky. Praised for their strength and vigor, their shining chariots move by their own power. At the Paruṣṇī river, the wool-clad Maruts dwell in purity, and the force of their chariot wheels breaks through mountains. The sacrifice spreads widely, touching all roads and paths, inner and outer. As the hymns rise, the men and hosts are praised, and the wondrous forms of the Maruts are seen, as though with the wings of birds. The Kubhanyas, pouring forth at the source, are like dancers—some radiant, some nurturing as mothers. Let us honor the Maruts, wise and creative, with delightful praise. O sage, approach the Marut host, generous as Mitra to a woman, for they come from the sky, full of powerful energy, seeking gifts and praise. In their stories, they speak of the cow, of Pṛśni as mother, and of Rudra, the mighty one, as father. On the banks of the Yamunā, seven givers each bestowed a hundred gifts; below, the reward of cattle is cleansed, and above, the reward of horses is purified. Who truly knows the birth of these Maruts, or who was first favored by them in ancient times? Who harnessed their power, who heard their tales as they stood in their chariots, who knew their paths or for whom they flowed with offerings and rain? It is said that they came in shining splendor, noble and youthful, faultless, and those who see them praise them. Adorned with axes, garlands, gold ornaments, and spears, they are glorious both in their chariots and on the plains. Their chariots, ever-giving, bring joy, and the rains move like streams in the sky. Generous men pour out the heavenly vessel for the worshipper, releasing Parjanya, the rain, to spread across the earth. The rivers rush with foam, dust flies like herds of cows, and horses, released on the road, speed swiftly onward. The Maruts are called from the sky, from the midspace, with delight—never to remain far away. No river—Rasā, Anitabha, Kubhā, Krumu, Sindhu, or the full Sarayu—should hold them back; may their favor be with us. Their fierce, ever-new host, their chariots, and their troop are followed by the rains. Host after host, band after band, are praised with good thoughts. For whom have the Maruts gone forth today, well-born and worthy of offerings? On their path, they bring grain and seed, undiminished, for offspring and children. May they grant us the reward we seek—prosperity in all things. With the Maruts, may we cross the deep, firm in blessings, leaving behind harm and enemies. With rain and joy, may they grant us healing. Blessed is the one whom the Maruts protect—may we too be sheltered by their care. Let us praise the generous ones and their dwelling; like eager steeds to fresh grass, let us call our old friends with our voices, singing to those who desire our hymns. Thus, with reverence and joy, the sons of Atri, the seers, and all the worshippers offer their praise and adoration to the hosts of gods, seeking well-being, strength, and unity for all.