Now I praise their mighty host, the youthful Maruts,
Who ride with swift horses and radiance, lords of Amṛta.
The mighty glittering band, bound by armlets, givers of joy, Unmeasurable in greatness, with magic powers, abundant and roaring—these, heroic ones, sing to.
May all your water-bearers, Maruts, who bring down rain, approach us today. May this fire, O Maruts, be duly lit; may it find favor with you, wise sages.
You raise up an active ruler for the people, a master's hand has shaped him, Holy Ones! You send the fighter hand-to-hand, mighty and brave, Maruts with good horses.
They grow stronger and more numerous, like days and spokes, without any left behind. Highest and mightiest are the sons of Pṛśni. Maruts hold firm to their intentions.
When you ride with spotted horses, O Maruts, on your strong-wrought carriages, The waters are disturbed, the woods shattered. Let Dyaus the Red Steer send his thunder down.
Even Earth spreads wide at their arrival, and they, with power, impregnate her. They yoke the winds for horses to the pole, their sweat makes rain, Sons of Rudra.
Ho! Maruts, heroes, skilled in Law, be gracious to us, rich in treasures, Hearders of truth, wise and youthful, mighty, dwelling on the lofty mountains.