Indra, the unconquered lord, alone bestows wealth upon mortals who serve him faithfully. He is the generous giver, undefeated in battle, and the source of prosperity. With earnest longing, the people wonder when Indra will hear their songs and swiftly come to aid those in need, as one steps into a fertile field. Among the many who call to him during the pressing of Soma, it is to that devotee that Indra’s immense power belongs. The cows, together with Indra’s companions, drink the sweet, flowing honey and rejoice in their strength. They shine brightly, possessing riches, and follow the sovereignty of the sun. The speckled Prishni cows, beloved of Indra, prepare the Soma and urge on his thunderbolt and arrow. These cows, full of wealth and glory, also follow the sun’s path. Wise and strong, the devoted ones serve Indra with homage, upholding his ancient ordinances and sharing in his wealth and the sun’s sovereignty. Indra, ever unconquered, slew ninety-nine foes with the bones of Dadhichi, displaying his might. He sought the horse’s head, hidden among the mountains, and found it with the guidance of the falcon. In the house of the moon, they followed the name of the cow, the lower form of Tvashtar, thus fulfilling a sacred quest. The question arises: Who today yokes the cows to the yoke of truth, eager and shining with strong hearts? Their sisters dwell near in their hearts, bringing joy—who among them has fulfilled the service for life? Who seeks, who is praised, who is feared, who believes Indra is present and near? Who will declare for offspring, for wealth, for himself, or for the people? Who desires Agni with offerings, with ghee and ladle, observing the fixed seasons? For whom do the gods swiftly bear the offering? Who regards the well-worshipped priest as good? Only you, O most mighty god, are praised. None but you, generous Indra, is a helper to mortals. This word is spoken to you. May your gifts and aids, O treasure-giver, never fail us. Measure out to us all human wealth, O lord of people. Meanwhile, the Maruts, sons of Rudra, shine forth like competing races, wise and eager. These heroes have made the two worlds grow and rejoice in contests. Sprinkled with radiance, the Rudras have established their seat in heaven. Praising in hymns, they generate strength, and the speckled-mothered ones have claimed their glory. When the cows, adorned with bright ointments, move forth, their shining bodies carry marks of beauty. They drive away every hostile force, and clarified butter flows along their paths. The Maruts, resplendent and well-armed with spears, shake even the unshakable with their might. Swift as thought, they yoke their spotted steeds to their chariots, forming a strong band of heroes. When the Maruts speed to the prize, yoking their spotted steeds, they shatter rocks. The streams of the red one burst forth, and, like water on a hide, they scatter them over the earth. Let the seven swift-moving Maruts come with their agile strength, take their seat on the wide sacred grass, and rejoice in the sweet libation. Growing in greatness, the Maruts made a broad seat in the sky. When Vishnu strode forth, the bull, overflowing with delight, the Maruts settled like birds upon the beloved sacred grass. They are like warriors eager for battle, heroes striving for fame in contests, feared by all beings. Like kings of terrible aspect, men tremble before them. When Tvashtar fashioned the well-made, golden thunderbolt with a thousand edges, Indra, the wise one, took it to perform heroic deeds. With it, he struck down Vritra and released the waters into the ocean. With their strength, the Maruts drove the cloud upward, split even the firm mountain, and, blowing the trumpet in the joy of Soma, performed glorious deeds. They drove the crooked cloud in that direction and poured the stream for the thirsty Gotama. With their shining help, they satisfied the desire of the inspired one with their gifts. Whatever shelter or threefold protections they have for the worshipper, the Maruts are asked to grant these, bestowing wealth and heroism upon their devotees. He whose dwelling the Maruts, sons of the great sky, inhabit is the most well-guarded among men. Whether by sacrifices or by the thoughts of the inspired, the Maruts hear the call. He whose swift ones follow after the inspired will go to the herd rich in cattle. For this hero, on the sacred grass, the pressed Soma is praised in heavenly places with hymn and exhilaration. May all peoples listen to his call; may even the sun, eager for riches, hasten to him. With many autumns, the Maruts are invoked to share their blessings with the peoples. Blessed is the mortal whom the Maruts safely lead on the paths of sacrifice. Men are urged to know the desires of the one who, seeking joy, is sweating and truly strong. The Maruts, truly mighty, reveal their power in greatness, striking down the demon with their lightning. They drive away hidden darkness, scatter all that restrains, and make light, for they are strong. With forward faces and might, shining, steadfast, adorned with ornaments, some among the Maruts are like bright mares with harness. When the Maruts rush through valleys like birds, the vessels pour out, and ghee flows, honey-colored, from their chariots. The earth trembles beneath their chariots as they yoke them for the journey; their playful, shining-eyed bands manifest greatness. The young troop with dappled horses is self-born, powerful, surrounded by strength. The Maruts are true, debtless, praiseworthy, protectors of prayer, the mighty troop. Thus, the glory of Indra and the Maruts shines forth, their deeds celebrated, their blessings sought by mortals, their power manifest in the heavens and upon the earth.