Let us sing of the Maruts, the strong and gracious hosts, skillful and inspiring, to whom noble hymns are offered. The wise one, deft of hand, arranges these songs as waters are channeled, making them resound in the gatherings of the people. These Maruts, sons of Rudra, were born high in the sky—vigorous, divine, and flawless. Mighty and steadfast, their brilliance rivals the sun, and their swiftness is like that of falling drops. Fearsome in appearance, they are young and undying, O Rudras, ever free from harm, growing strong and unaging as mountains. Their power shakes even the firm earth and stirs the heavenly realms. Adorned in splendor, their shining ornaments gleam upon their chests, and their weapons are fastened to their shoulders. Together, by their own strength, these mighty ones were born from the sky. Created by the Lord, they roar and bring benefit, growing strong like the winds and flashes of lightning. Their heavenly streams pour forth, their showers nourishing the earth with life-giving waters. Generous givers, the Maruts pour out waters rich with ghee, manifesting their presence in the assemblies. Like swift racers in the rain, they lead the eager horse and milk the inexhaustible udder of the sky, their thunder resounding. Mighty as buffaloes, skilled in magic, and shining in brilliance, they stand firm as mountains, self-sustaining and swift to aid. Like wild beasts and elephants, they devour the woods when, reddened and harnessed, they unleash their power. The Maruts roar like lions, wise and all-knowing, their speckled spears quickening the nights. In battle, they overcome foes, mighty in strength and spirit. O Maruts, renowned among hosts, heroic and indomitable, your radiance flashes from your chariots like lightning, your thoughts evident among your teams. All-knowing and united in will, the Maruts dwell together in riches. Mighty and shining, they set their arrows upon the bowstring, ever ready with unending power, bull-like and strong. With golden spears, nourished by milk, they charge forth like a force that clears paths through the mountains. Their vision shines, eager for the offering; their courses are fixed, their paths unwavering, their forms fierce. With invocation, we praise the bright, pure, far-seeing Maruts, the sons of Rudra. Strong in their realm, swift in the expanse, united and powerful, they shine for glory. Supported by their strength, a mortal surpasses others—whom the Maruts aid, he wins wealth with horses and men, attains wisdom, and prospers. O Maruts, grant to the generous unconquerable might in battle, glorious wealth that brings praise and renown among all people, so we may prosper with many sons and descendants. Bestow upon us enduring, heroic, ever-victorious wealth, abundant and shining, so that the wise one may come to us early with blessings. Now, let us contemplate another wondrous presence. Like a herdsman moving secretly, harnessed and bearing reverence, he goes about his work. The wise ones follow in his footsteps, and all the gods, worshipful, take their seats near him. In accordance with the laws of truth, the gods have become guardians; heaven, like a great covering, encompasses the earth. From the womb of truth, the ever-growing, pure, and nourishing waters have brought forth the well-born one. Like abundant nourishment, like the earth, like a mountain, like a steadfast support and a shelter, he brings happiness. Like a swift horse released at the start of a race, like an unrestrained river, none can surpass him. He is kin to the rivers, a brother to his sister, the king who takes from both and consumes the forests. When driven by the wind, he scatters the woods—Agni burns, consuming the hairs of the earth. He breathes in the waters, like a swan sitting serenely, and by his will moves swiftly among peoples, O shining one. Like Soma, the wise one, born of truth, like a far-reaching calf, he pervades all. He is splendid as wealth, all-seeing as the sun, eternal as the sky, ever-living as a son. Like a swift horse he exerts himself; like a radiant cow, he pours forth nourishment. He upholds safety, delightful as a singer; like ripe barley, he conquers peoples. Like a sage praised among the tribes and a victorious steed, he brings forth vigor. His flame shines far, his resolve is constant; like a mother, he opens the womb for all. Brilliant as a white cloud among the tribes, like a golden chariot, fierce in battles. Like an army set in motion, he bears strength; like a thunderbolt, his fierce form flashes. He is born as Yama, the origin of Yama, lover of maidens, lord of women. We seek him, the dwelling of wealth; like cows, they mark his shining presence. Like a river, he flows downward, while the cows ascend, beholding the radiant realm. Born in the woods and chosen among mortals, Mitra seeks creation as a king seeks victory. Like a gentle protector, his resolve is auspicious; he becomes self-reliant, the priest who brings offerings. Holding all powers in his hand, he has placed the gods in their secret seats. Here, men discover wisdom; with their hearts, they praise the crafted mantras. Like one unborn, he upheld the earth and supported the sky with true mantras. Thus, through the hymns, the glory of the Maruts, Agni, and Mitra is celebrated—each radiant and powerful, upholding the order of the world, bestowing blessings, and inspiring all beings to seek wisdom, strength, and prosperity.