WHAT time, first springing into life, thou neighedst, proceeding from the sea or upper waters,
Limbs of the deer hadst thou, and eagle pinions. O Steed, thy birth is nigh and must be lauded.

This Steed which Yama gave hath Trita harnessed, and him, the first of all, hath Indra mounted.
His bridle the Gandharva grasped. O Vasus, from out the Sun ye fashioned forth the Courser.

Yama art thou, O Horse; thou art Āditya; Trita art thou by secret operation.
Thou art divided thoroughly from Soma. They say thou hast three bonds in heaven
that hold thee.

Three bonds, they say, thou hast in heaven that bind thee, three in the waters,
three within the ocean.
To me thou seemest Varuṇa, O Courser, there where they say is thy sublimest birth-place.

Here-, Courser, are the places where they groomed thee, here are the traces of thy hoofs as winner.
Here have I seen the auspicious reins that guide thee, which those who guard the holy Law keep safely.

Thyself from far I recognized in spirit, — a Bird that from below flew through the heaven.
I saw thy head still soaring, striving upward by paths unsoiled by dust, pleasant to travel.

Here I beheld thy form, matchless in glory, eager to win thee food at the Cow’s station.
Whene’er a man brings thee to thine enjoyment, thou swallowest the plants most greedy eater.

After thee, Courser, come the car, the bridegroom, the kine come after, and the charm of maidens.
Full companies have followed for thy friendship: the pattern of thy vigour Gods have copied.

Horns made of gold hath he: his feet are iron: less fleet than he, though swift as thought, is Indra.
The Gods have come that they may taste the oblation of him who mounted, first of all, the Courser.

Symmetrical in flank, with rounded haunches, mettled like heroes, the Celestial Coursers
Put forth their strength, like swans in lengthened order, when they, the Steeds, have reached the heavenly causeway.

A body formed for flight hast thou, O Charger; swift as the wind in motion is thy spirit.
Thy horns are spread abroad in all directions: they move with restless beat in wildernesses.

The strong Steed hath come forward to the slaughter, pondering with a mind directed God-ward.
The goat who is his kin is led before him the sages and the singers follow after.

The Steed is come unto the noblest mansion, is come unto his Father and his Mother.
This day shall he approach the Gods, most welcome: then he declares good gifts to him who offers.

HYMN CLXIV. Viśvedevas.

OF this benignant Priest, with eld grey-coloured, the brother midmost of the three is lightning.
The third is he whose back with oil is sprinkled. Here I behold the Chief with seven male children.

Seven to the one-wheeled chariot yoke the Courser; bearing seven names the single Courser draws it.
Three-naved the wheel is, sound and undecaying, whereon are resting all these worlds of being.

The seven who on the seven-wheeled car are mounted have horses, seven in tale, who draw them onward.
Seven Sisters utter songs of praise together, in whom the names of the seven Cows are treasured.

Who hath beheld him as he sprang to being, seen how the boneless One supports the bony?
Where is the blood of earth, the life, the spirit? Who may approach the man who knows, to ask it?

Unripe in mind, in spirit undiscerning, I ask of these the Gods’ established places;
For up above the yearling Calf the sages, to form a web, their own seven threads have woven.

I ask, unknowing, those who know, the sages, as one all ignorant for sake of knowledge,
What was that ONE who in the Unborn’s image hath stablished and fixed firm these worlds’ six regions.

Let him who knoweth presently declare it, this lovely Bird’s securely founded station.
Forth from his head the Cows draw milk, and, wearing his vesture, with their foot have drunk the water.

The Mother gave the Sire his share of Order: with thought, at first, she wedded him in spirit.
She, the coy Dame, was filled with dew prolific: with adoration men approached to praise her.

Yoked was the Mother to the boon Cow’s car-pole: in the dank rows of cloud the Infant rested.
Then the Calf lowed, and looked upon the Mother, the Cow who wears all shapes in three directions.

Bearing three Mothers and three Fathers, single he stood erect: they never make him weary.
There on the pitch of heaven they speak together in speech all-knowing but not all-impelling.

Formed with twelve spokes, by length of time, unweakened, rolls round the heaven this wheel of during Order.
Herein established, joined in pairs together, seven hundred Sons and twenty stand, O Agni.

They call him in the farther half of heaven the Sire five-footed, of twelve forms, wealthy in watery store.
These others say that he, God with far-seeing eyes, is mounted on the lower seven-wheeled, six-spoked car.

Upon this five-spoked wheel revolving ever all living creatures rest and are dependent.
Its axle, heavy-laden, is not heated: the nave from ancient time remains unbroken.

The wheel revolves, unwasting, with its felly: ten draw it, yoked to the far-stretching car-pole.
The Sun’s eye moves encompassed by the region: on him dependent rest all living creatures.

Of the co-born they call the seventh single-born; the six twin pairs are called Ṛṣis, Children of Gods.
Their good gifts sought of men are ranged in order due, and various in their form move for the Lord who guides.

They told me these were males, though truly females: he who hath eyes sees this, the blind discerns not.
The son who is a sage hath comprehended: who knows this rightly is his father’s father.

Beneath the upper realm, above this lower, bearing her calf at foot the Cow hath risen.
Witherward, to what place hath she departed? Where calves she? Not amid this herd of cattle.

Who, that the father of this Calf discerneth beneath the upper realm, above the lower,
Showing himself a sage, may here declare it? Whence hath the Godlike spirit had its rising?

Those that come hitherward they call departing, those that depart they call directed hither.
And what so ye have made, Indra and Soma, steeds bear as ’twere yoked to the region’s car-pole.

Two Birds with fair wings, knit with bonds of friendship, in the same sheltering tree have found a refuge.
One of the twain eats the sweet Fig-tree’s fruitage; the other eating not regardeth only.

Where those fine Birds hymn ceaselessly their portion of life eternal, and the sacred synods,
There is the Universe’s mighty Keeper, who, wise, hath entered into me the simple.

The, tree whereon the fine Birds eat the sweetness, where they all rest and procreate their offspring, —
Upon its top they say the fig is luscious: none gaineth it who knoweth not the Father.

How on the Gāyatrī the Gāyatrī was based, how from the Triṣṭup they fashioned the Triṣṭup forth,
How on the Jagati was based the Jagati, — they who know this have won themselves immortal life.

With Gāyatrī he measures out the praise-song, Sāma with praise-song, triplet with the Triṣṭup.
The triplet with the two or four-foot measure, and with the syllable they form seven metres.

With Jagatī the flood in heaven he stablished, and saw the Sun in the Rathantara Sāman.
Gayatri hath, they say, three brands for kindling: hence it excels in majesty and vigour.

I invocate the milch-cow good for milking so that the milker, deft of hand, may drain her.
May Savitar give goodliest stimulation. The caldron is made hot; I will proclaim it.

She, lady of all treasure, is come hither yearning in spirit for her calf and lowing.
May this cow yield her milk for both the Asvins, and may she prosper to our high advantage.

The cow hath lowed after her blinking youngling; she licks his forehead, as she lows, to form it.
His mouth she fondly calls to her warm udder, and suckles him with milk while gently lowing.

He also snorts, by whom encompassed round the Cow laws as she clings unto the shedder of the rain.
She with her shrilling cries hath humbled mortal man, and, turned to lightning, hath stripped off her covering robe.

That which hath breath and speed and life and motion lies firmly stablished in the midst of houses.
Living, by offerings to the Dead he moveth Immortal One, the brother of the mortal.

I saw the Herdsman, him who never stumbles, approaching by his pathways and departing.
He, clothed with gathered and diffusive splendour, within the worlds continually travels.

He who hath made him cloth not comprehend him: from him who saw him surely is he hidden.
He, yet enveloped in his Mother’s bosom, source of much life, hath sunk into destruction.

Dyaus is my Father, my begetter: kinship is here. This great earth is my kin and Mother.
Between the wide-spread world-halves is the birth-place: the Father laid the Daughter’s germ within it.

I ask thee of the earth’s extremest limit, where is the centre of the world, I ask thee.
I ask thee of the Stallion’s seed prolific, I ask of highest heaven where Speech abideth.

This altar is the earth’s extremest limit; this sacrifice of ours is the world’s centre.
The Stallion’s seed prolific is the Soma; this Brahman highest heaven where Speech abideth.

Seven germs unripened yet are heaven’s prolific seed: their functions they maintain by Viṣṇu’s ordinance.
Endued with wisdom through intelligence and thought, they compass us about present on every side.

What thing I truly am I know not clearly: mysterious, fettered in my mind I wander.
When the first-born of holy Law approached me, then of this speech I first obtain a portion.

Back, forward goes he, grasped by strength inherent, the Immortal born the brother of the mortal
Ceaseless they move in opposite directions: men mark the one, and fail to mark the other.

Upon what syllable of holy praise-song, as twere their highest heaven, the Gods repose them, —
Who knows not this, what will he do with praise-song? But they who know it well sit here assembled.

Fortunate mayst thou be with goodly pasture, and may we also be exceeding wealthy.
Feed on the grass, O Cow, at every season, and coming hitherward drink limpid water.

Forming the water-floods, the buffalo hath lowed, one-footed or two-footed or four-footed, she,
Who hath become eight-footed or hath got nine feet, the thousand-syllabled in the sublimest heaven.

From her descend in streams the seas of water; thereby the world’s four regions have their being,
Thence flows the imperishable flood and thence the universe hath life.

I saw from far away the smoke of fuel with spires that rose on high o’er that beneath it.
The Mighty Men have dressed the spotted bullock. These were the customs in the days aforetime,

Three with long tresses show in ordered season. One of them sheareth when the year is ended.
One with his powers the universe regardeth: Of one, the sweep is seen, but his figure.

Speech hath been measured out in four divisions, the Brahmans who have understanding know them.
Three kept in close concealment cause no motion; of speech, men speak only the fourth division.

They call him Indra, Mitra, Varuṇa, Agni, and he is heavenly nobly-winged Garutmān.
To what is One, sages give many a title they call it Agni, Yama, Matarisvan.

Dark the descent: the birds are golden-coloured; up to the heaven they fly robed in the waters.
Again descend they from the seat of Order, and all the earth is moistened with their fatness.

Twelve are the fellies, and the wheel is single; three are the naves. What man hath understood it?
Therein are set together spokes three hundred and sixty, which in nowise can be loosened.

That breast of thine exhaustless, spring of pleasure, wherewith thou feedest all things that are choicest,
Wealth-giver, treasure. finder, free bestower, — bring that, Sarasvatī, that we may drain it.

By means of sacrifice the Gods accomplished their sacrifice: these were the earliest ordinances.
These Mighty Ones attained the height of heaven, there where the Sādhyas, Gods of old, are dwelling.

Uniform, with the passing days, this water mounts and fails again.
The tempest-clouds give life to earth, and fires re-animate the heaven.

The Bird Celestial, vast with noble pinion, the lovely germ of plants, the germ of waters,
Him who delighteth us with rain in season, Sarasvan I invoke that he may help us.

HYMN CLXV. Indra. Maruts.

WITH what bright beauty are the Maruts jointly invested, peers in age, who dwell together?
From what place have they come? With what intention? Sing they their strength through love of wealth, these Heroes?

Whose prayers have they, the Youthful Ones, accepted? Who to his sacrifice hath turned the Maruts?
We will delay them on their journey sweeping — with what high spirit! — through the air like eagles.

Whence comest thou alone, thou who art mighty, Indra, Lord of the Brave? What is thy purpose?
Thou greetest us when meeting us the Bright Ones. Lord of Bay Steeds, say what thou hast against us.

Mine are devotions, hymns; sweet are libations. Strength stirs, and hurled forth is my bolt of thunder.
They call for me, their lauds are longing for me. These my Bay Steeds bear me to these oblations.

Therefore together with our strong companions, having adorned our bodies, now we harness,
Our spotted deer with might, for thou, O Indra, hast learnt and understood our Godlike nature.

Where was that nature then of yours, O Maruts, that ye charged me alone to slay the Dragon?
For I in truth am fierce and strong and mighty. I bent away from every foeman’s weapons.

Yea, much hast thou achieved with us for comrades, with manly valour like thine own, thou Hero.
Much may we too achieve, O mightiest Indra, with our great power, we Maruts, when we will it.

Vṛtra I slew by mine own strength, O Maruts, having waxed mighty in mine indignation.
I with the thunder in my hand created for man these lucid softly flowing waters.

Nothing, O Maghavan, stands firm before thee; among the Gods not one is found thine equal.
None born or springing into life comes nigh thee. Do what thou hast to do, exceeding mighty?

Mine only be transcendent power, whatever I, daring in my spirit, may accomplish.
For I am known as terrible, O Maruts I, Indra, am the Lord of what I ruined.

Now, O ye Maruts, hath your praise rejoiced me, the glorious hymn which ye have made me, Heroes!
For me, for Indra, champion strong in battle, for me, yourselves, as lovers for a lover.

Here, truly, they send forth their sheen to meet me, wearing their blameless glory and their vigour.
When I have seen you, Maruts, in gay splendour, ye have delighted me, so now delight me.

Who here hath magnified you, O ye Maruts? speed forward, O ye lovers, to your lovers.
Ye Radiant Ones, assisting their devotions, of these my holy rites he ye regardful.

To this hath Mānya’s wisdom brought us, so as to aid, as aids the poet him who worships.
Bring hither quick! On to the sage, ye Maruts! These prayers for you the singer hath recited.

May this your praise, may this your song, O Maruts, sung by the poet, Māna’s son, Māndārya,
Bring offspring for ourselves with food to feed us. May we find strengthening food in full abundance!

HYMN CLXVI. Maruts.

Now let us publish, for the vigorous company the herald of the Strong One, their primeval might.
With fire upon your way, O Maruts loud of voice, with battle, Mighty Ones, achieve your deeds of strength.

Bringing the pleasant meath as ’twere their own dear son, they sport in sportive wise gay at their gatherings.
The Rudras come with succour to the worshipper; self-strong they fail not him who offers sacrifice.

To whomsoever, bringer of oblations, they immortal guardians, have given plenteous wealth,
For him, like loving friends, the Maruts bringing bliss bedew the regions round with milk abundantly.

Ye who with mighty powers have stirred the regions up, your coursers have sped forth directed by themselves.
All creatures of the earth, all dwellings are afraid, for brilliant is your coming with your spears advanced.

When they in dazzling rush have made the mountains roar, and shaken heaven’s high back in their heroic strength,
Each sovran of the forest fears as ye drive near, aid the shrubs fly before you swift as whirling wheels.

Terrible Maruts, ye with ne’er-diminished host, with great benevolence fulfil our heart’s desire.
Where’er your lightning bites armed with its gory teeth it crunches up the cattle like a well-aimed dart.

Givers of during gifts whose bounties never fail, free from ill-will, at sacrifices glorified,
They sing their song aloud that they may drink sweet juice: well do they know the Hero’s first heroic deeds.

With castles hundredfold, O Maruts, guard ye well the man whom ye have loved from ruin and from sin, —
The man whom ye the fierce, the Mighty ones who roar, preserve from calumny by cherishing his seed.

O Maruts, in your cars are all things that are good: great powers are set as ’twere in rivalry therein.
Rings are upon your shoulders when ye journey forth: your axle turns together both the chariot wheels.

Held in your manly arms are many goodly things, gold chains are on your chests, and glistering ornaments,
Deer-skins are on their shoulders, on their fellies knives: they spread their glory out as birds spread out their wings.

Mighty in mightiness, pervading, passing strong, visible from afar as ’twere with stars of heaven,
Lovely with pleasant tongues, sweet singers with their mouths, the Maruts, joined with Indra, shout forth all around.

This is your majesty, ye Maruts nobly born, far as the sway of Aditi your bounty spreads.
Even Indra by desertion never disannuls the boon bestowed by you upon the pious man.

This is your kinship, Maruts, that, Immortals, ye were oft in olden time regardful of our call,
Having vouchsafed to man a hearing through this prayer, by wondrous deeds the Heroes have displayed their might.

That, O ye Maruts, we may long time flourish through your abundant riches, O swift movers,
And that our men may spread in the encampment, let me complete the rite with these oblations.

May this your laud, may this your song, O Maruts, sung by the poet, Māna’s son, Māndārya,
Bring offspring for ourselves with food to feed us. May we find strengthening food in full abundance.

HYMN CLXVII. Indra. Maruts.

A THOUSAND are thy helps for us, O Indra: a thousand, Lord of Bays, thy choice refreshments.
Wealth of a thousand sorts hast thou to cheer us: may precious goods come nigh to us in thousands.

May the most sapient Maruts, with protection, with best boons brought from lofty heaven, approach us,
Now when their team of the most noble horses speeds even on the sea’s extremest limit.

Close to them clings one moving in seclusion, like a man’s wife, like a spear carried rearward,
Well grasped, bright, decked with gold there is Vāk also, like to a courtly, eloquent dame, among them.

Far off the brilliant, never-weary Maruts cling to the young Maid as a joint possession.
The fierce Gods drave not Rodasi before them, but wished for her to grow their friend and fellow.

When chose immortal Rodasī to follow — she with loose tresses and heroic spirit —
She climbed her servant’s chariot, she like Surya with cloud-like motion and refulgent aspect.

Upon their car the young men set the Maiden wedded to glory, mighty in assemblies,
When your song, Maruts, rose, and, with oblation, the Soma-pourer sang his hymn in worship.

I will declare the greatness of these Maruts, their real greatness, worthy to be lauded,
How, with them, she though firm, strong-minded, haughty, travels to women happy in their fortune.

Mitra and Varuṇa they guard from censure: Aryaman too, discovers worthless sinners
Firm things are overthrown that ne’er were shaken: he prospers, Maruts, who gives choice oblations.

None of us, Maruts, near or at a distance, hath ever reached the limit of your vigour.
They in courageous might still waxing boldly have compassed round their foemen like an ocean.

May we this day be dearest friends of Indra, and let us call on him in fight to-morrow.
So were we erst. New might attend us daily! So be with us! Ṛbhukṣan of the Heroes!

May this your laud, may this your song, O Maruts, sung by the poet, Māna’s son, Māndārya,
Bring offspring for ourselves with. food to feed us. May we find strengthening food in full abundance.

HYMN CLXVIII. Maruts.

SWIFT gain is his who hath you near at every rite: ye welcome every song of him who serves the Gods.
So may I turn you hither with fair hymns of praise to give great succour for the weal of both the worlds.

Surrounding, as it were, self-born, self-powerful, they spring to life the shakers-down of food and light;
Like as the countess undulations of the floods, worthy of praise when near, like bullocks and like kine.

They who, like Somas with their well-grown stalks pressed out, imbibed within the heart, dwell there in friendly wise.
Upon their shoulders rests as ’twere a warrior’s spear and in their hand they hold a dagger and a ring.

Self-yoked they have descended lightly from the sky. With your own lash, Immortals, urge yourselves to speed.
Unstained by dust the Maruts, mighty in their strength, have cast down e’en firm things, armed with their shining spears.