SING with these songs thy welcome to the Mighty, with adoration praise and call Parjanya. The Bull, loud roaring, swift to send his bounty, lays in the plants the seed. for germination.
He smites the trees apart, he slays the demons: all life fears him who wields the mighty weapon. From him exceeding strong fices e’en the guiltless, when thundering Parjanya smites the wicked.
Like a car-driver whipping on his horses, he makes the messengers of rain spring forward. Far off resounds the roaring of the lion, what time Parjanya fills the sky with rain-cloud.
Forth burst the winds, down come the lightning-flashes: the plants shoot up, the realm of light is streaming. Food springs abundant for all living creatures, what time Parjanya quickens earth with moisture.
Thou at whose bidding earth bows low before thee, at whose command hoofed cattle fly in terror, At whose behest the plants assume all colours, even thou Parjanya, yield us great protection.
Send down for us the rain of heaven, ye Maruts, and let the Stallion's flood descend in torrents. Come hither with this thunder while thou pourest the waters down, our heavenly Lord and Father.
Thunder and roar: the germ of life deposit. Fly round us on thy chariot waterladen. Thine opened water-skin draw with thee downward, and let the hollows and the heights be level.
Lift up the mighty vessel, pour down water, and let the liberated streams rush forward. Saturate both the earth and heaven with fatness, and for the cows let there be drink abundant.
When thou, with thunder and with roar, Parjanya, smitest sinners down, This universe exults thereat, yea, all that is upon the earth.
Thou hast poured down the rain-flood now withhold it. Thou hast made desert places fit for travel. Thou hast made herbs to grow for our enjoyment: yea, thou hast won thee praise from living creatures.
