THE best of guardians hath that man within whose dwelling place ye drink, O Maruts, giants of the sky.
Honoured with sacrifice or with the worship of the sages’ hymns, O Maruts, listen to the call.
Yea, the strong man to whom ye have vouchsafed to give a sage, shall move Into a stable rich in kine.
Upon this hero's sacred grass Soma is poured in daily rites: Praise and delight are sung aloud.
Let the strong Maruts hear him, him surpassing all men: strength be his That reaches even to the Sun.
For, through the swift Gods’ loving help, in many an autumn, Maruts, we Have offered up our sacrifice.
Fortunate shall that mortal be, O Maruts most adorable, Whose offerings ye bear away.
O Heroes truly strong, ye know the toil of him who sings your praise, The heart's desire of him who loves.
O ye of true strength, make this thing manifest by your greatness: strike The demon with your thunderbolt.
Conceal the horrid darkness, drive far from us each devouring fiend. Create the light for which we long.
