Let none, swift travelers, hinder you; come here, like-minded, do not stay afar. You benders of what is firm.
Maruts, Bhrukhshans, Rudras, come with your strong-wheeled chariots, bright and exceeding bright. Come, you whom we long for, with food for sacrifice, come with love to Sobbari.
We know well the vigor of Rudra’s sons, the Martits, who are very strong, The swift band of Vishnu, who sends the rain.
Islands burst forth, and misery is stilled; heaven and earth are joined in one. Decked with bright rings, you spread the broad expanse, when you, Self-luminous, stir yourselves.
Even things immobile shake and reel, mountains and forest trees at your approach, And the earth trembles as you come.
Give free passage, O Maruts, to your furious rush, heaven still higher gives way, Where they, mighty heroes with their arms, display their gleaming ornaments on their forms.
After their divine nature, the bull-like heroes, dazzling and impetuous, wear Great splendor as they show erect.
In the golden box of Sobharis’ chariot, the pivot is anointed with milk. May they the Well-born, Mighty, kin of the Cow, aid us to food and delight.
Bring, you who sprinkle balmy drops, offerings to your vigorous Marut company, To those whose leader is the Bull.
Come here, O you Mares, on your strong-hooved chariots, solid in look, with solid naves. Lightly like winged falcons, O you Heroes, come, come to enjoy our offerings.
Their decoration is the same: their gold ornaments are bright on their arms; Their lances glitter splendidly.
You do not toil to defend your bodies from attack, mighty heroes with your strong arms. Strong are your bows and strong the weapons in your cars, and glory sits on every face.
Whose name extends like a sea, alone, resplendent, so that all have joy in it, And life-power like ancestral might.
Honor these Maruts and sing praise to them, for of the wheel-spokes of the car Of these loud roars, none is last: this is their power, this moves them to