May that grace of yours by which you help the wretched across all
anguish, and by which you deliver the worshipper from the reviler, come
hither, O Maruts; may your favor approach us like a cow going to her
calf!
VII
I come to you with this adoration, with a hymn I implore the favor of
the quick Maruts. O Maruts, you have rejoiced in it clearly, put down
then all anger and unharness your horses! This reverent praise of yours,
O Maruts, fashioned in the heart, has been offered by the mind, O gods!
Come to it, pleased in your mind, for you give increase to our worship.
May the Maruts when they have been praised be gracious to us, and
likewise Indra, the best giver of happiness, when he has been praised.
May our lances through our valor stand always erect, O Maruts! I am
afraid of this powerful one, and trembling in fear of Indra. For you the
offerings were prepared--we have now put them away, forgive us! Thou
through whom the Mânas see the mornings, whenever the eternal dawns
flash forth with power, O Indra, O strong hero, grant thou glory to us
with the Maruts, terrible with the terrible ones, strong and a giver of
victory. O Indra, protect thou these bravest of men, let thy anger be
turned away from the Maruts, for thou hast become victorious together
with those brilliant heroes. May we have an invigorating autumn, with
quickening rain!
VIII
O Maruts, that man in whose dwelling you drink the Soma, ye mighty sons
of heaven, he indeed has the best guardians. You who are propitiated
either by sacrifices or from the prayers of the sage, hear the call, O
Maruts! Aye, the powerful man to whom you have granted a sage, he will
live in a stable rich in cattle. On the altar of this strong man Soma is
poured out in daily sacrifices; praise and joy are sung. To him let the
mighty Maruts listen, to him who surpasses all men, as the flowing
rain-clouds pass over the sun. For we, O Maruts, have sacrificed at many
harvests, through the mercies of the storm-gods. May that mortal be
blessed, O chasing Maruts, whose offerings you carry off. You take
notice either of the sweat of him who praises you, ye men of true
strength, or of the desire of the suppliant. O ye of true strength, make
this manifest with might! strike the fiend with your lightning! Hide the
hideous darkness, destroy every tusky fiend. Make the light which we
long for!
IX
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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