2Who, when they stood upon their cars, hath heard them tell the way they went? Who was the bounteous man to whom their kindred rains flowed down with food of sacrifice?

3To me they told it, and they came with winged steeds radiant to the draught, Youths, Heroes free from spot or stain: Behold us here and praise thou us;

4Who shine self−luminous with ornaments and swords, with breastplates, armlets, and with wreaths, Arrayed on chariots and with bows.

5O swift to pour your bounties down, ye Maruts, with delight I look upon your cars, Like splendours coming through the rain.

6Munificent Heroes, they have cast heaven's treasury down for the worshipper's behoof: They set the storm−cloud free tostream through both the worlds, and rainfloods flow o'er desert spots.

7The bursting streams m billowy flood have spread abroad, like milch−kine, o'er the firmament. Like swift steeds hasting to their journey's resting−place, to every side run glittering brooks.

8Hither, O Maruts, come from heaven, from mid−air, or from near at hand Tarry not far away from us.

9So let not Rasa, Krumu, or Anitabha, Kubha, or Sindhu hold you back. Let not the watery Sarayti obstruct your way. With us be all the bliss ye give.

10That brilliant gathering of your cars, the company of Maruts, of the Youthful Ones, The rain−showers, speeding on, attend.

11With eulogies and hymns may we follow your army, troop by troop, and band by band, And company by company.

12To what oblation−giver, sprung of noble ancestry, have sped The Maruts on this course to−day?

13Vouchsafe to us the bounty, that which we implore, through which, for child and progeny, Ye give the seed of corn that wasteth not away, and bliss that reacheth to all life.

14May we in safety pass by those who slander us, leaving behind disgrace and hate. Maruts, may we be there when ye, at dawn, in rest and toil, rain waters down and balm.

15Favoured by Gods shall he the man, O Heroes, Marutr! and possessed of noble sons, Whom ye protect. Such may we be.

16Praise the Free−givers. At this liberal patron's rite they joy like cattle in the mead. So call thou unto them who come as ancient Friends: hymn those who love thee with a song.