In reverent praise, the sages call upon the Maruts, those radiant sons of Rudra, beseeching them for abundant wealth—cattle, horses, chariots, noble offspring, and shining prosperity. The Maruts, immortal and wise, are invoked to grant their divine favor, to bestow gifts freely upon those who honor them. These youthful, mighty beings, true to hearing and greatly sustaining, are likened to the strength of mountains, ever gracious and generous. The hymns then turn to celebrate the Maruts’ power, describing their host as ever new and most potent among all. They ride swift horses, their strength unmatched, shining sovereigns of immortality. Fierce and steadfast, their jaws like blades, the Maruts are skilled in magic and renowned for their boundless generosity. The sage extols their greatness, urging praise for these givers of gifts. On this day, the Maruts are invited to arrive with their swift chariots, bringers of rain, as the sacrificial fire is kindled for them. The wise, youthful Maruts are asked to accept this offering. They are the ones who make kings renowned among their people, generating splendor for the sacrifice. From them arises the strong-armed fist-wielder and the noble horse; all these blessings flow from the Maruts. Like wanderers, the Maruts move freely, ever reborn, mighty in their deeds. Sons of Prisni, most excellent, they seek unity with their own wisdom. When they advance, their spotted horses and gold-adorned chariots churn the waters, break the forests, and the bull roars as the sky thunders. Their movement spreads so widely that the earth yields like a mother bearing her child. The wind-horses are yoked to their chariot, and the Rudrian ones make rain and sweat. Again, the Maruts are invoked for their graciousness, their abundance of gifts, immortality, and truth. Wise, youthful, and mighty as mountains, they sustain all. Praise is sent forth for well-being, offered to heaven and earth. The Maruts pour out their radiance, their red horses filling the expanse with waves of light. Through their might, the earth trembles in fear, like a full boat spilling its contents. Far-seeing, the Maruts mark these signs, and among the great assembly, men strive with them. They shine forth like the finest horn among cows, like the sun’s eye in the sky, splendid and swift as horses, standing forth for glory and recognized by people. The hymns inquire: Who among the Maruts possesses the greatest power? Who has the most wondrous manliness? When they set the earth trembling like a blade of grass, they move forth to bestow good fortune. Like reddish horses joined in battle, like eager warriors, the Maruts obscure the sun with their rains. They are neither eldest nor youngest, always springing forth, none in the middle; by their greatness, they have grown vast. Well-born children of Prisni, sons of heaven, they are called to come. Like flocks of birds, the Maruts soar in ranks with power, beyond the peaks of the great sky. Their horses know their ways, and they shake the summits of mountain and sky. May the sky and Aditi measure out protection for us; may the shining Dawns strive together. The Maruts, singers of Rudra, have opened the celestial vessel. Agni is praised with reverence, discerning the deeds of worshippers. Like chariots eager for battle, the hymn strengthens the Maruts, moving in a circle. When the Rudras, the Maruts, stand in their adorned chariots, even the forests tremble, the earth shakes, and the mountain quakes at their might. The summit of heaven trembles at their sound; when the Maruts play with their spears, they rush together like waters in unison. Adorned with gold, splendid in their bodies, the Maruts accomplish great deeds for glory, strong in their chariots. They are brothers, neither eldest nor youngest, grown together for good fortune. Their youthful father, wise Rudra, and their nourishing mother Prisni, grant fair days to the Maruts. Whatever is highest, in the middle, or lowest, belongs to the Maruts in heaven; of that, or perhaps of Agni, knowledge may be gained from the offering if invoked. When Agni and the Maruts bring their chariots from the highest heaven, may those joyous, generous ones grant wealth to the worshipper who pours the libation. Agni, together with the Maruts, shining and chanting, drinks the Soma, delighted, with their splendid hosts. With pure, immortal flames, Agni comes with his sign from heaven. The hymns then question: Which among the Maruts are the most excellent, who have come from the farthest distance? Where are their horses, their reins? How did they manage, and who sits as their companion? At their back is the goad, their thighs spread apart, like fathers for the sake of sons. The heroes, youthful ones of noble birth, are urged to go forth, kindled by Agni. May they grant wealth—like that of Sanatśāśva, cattle, and a hundredfold abundance—to the one praised by Śyāvāśva, generous with their arms. A woman is called to become more desirable than a man, more sought after, when she is not devoted to the godless and irreverent. She discerns the cunning, the thirsty, the desiring; she directs her mind toward the divine. Yet, the unpraised one claims, “I am a man”—he is a Pani, an enemy, always the same. The youthful, eager woman has not approached the speaker; the path turns toward Śyāvā, while the red ones choose the long-famed sage. He who gave a hundred cows, as if giving ten times over, crosses over by his greatness. Those who carry her swiftly, drinking the exhilarating mead, attain fame. For them, heaven and earth shine with splendor on their chariots, like gold in the sky. The host of the Maruts is young, with mighty chariots, unassailable, shining, and unopposed. Who truly knows where their impelled ones rejoice, born of truth, without stain? Thus, the hymns celebrate the Maruts—sons of Rudra and Prisni—mighty, radiant, ever new, generous, and sustaining, who bring rain, thunder, and blessings, whose glory fills the heavens and the earth, and whose favor is sought by all who praise them with devotion.