HYMN LVIII. Maruts – Rig Veda – Book 7
पर साकमुक्षे अर्चता गणाय यो दैव्यस्य धाम्नस्तुविष्मान |
उत कषोदन्ति रोदसी महित्वा नक्षन्ते नाकं निरतेरवंशात ||
जनूश्चिद वो मरुतस्त्वेष्येण भीमासस्तुविमन्यवो.अयासः |
पर ये महोभिरोजसोत सन्ति विश्वो वो यामन भयते सवर्द्र्क ||
बर्हद वयो मघवद्भ्यो दधात जुजोषन्निन मरुतः सुष्टुतिं नः |
गतो नाध्वा वि तिराति जन्तुं पर ण सपार्हाभिरूतिभिस्तिरेत ||
युष्मोतो विप्रो मरुतः शतस्वी युष्मोतो अर्वा सहुरिः सहस्री |
युष्मोतः सम्राळ उत हन्ति वर्त्रं पर तद वो अस्तु धूतयो देष्णम ||
ताना रुद्रस्य मीळ्हुषो विवासे कुविन नंसन्ते मरुतः पुनर्नः |
यत सस्वर्ता जिहीळिरे यदाविरव तदेन ईमहे तुराणाम ||
परा सा वाचि सुष्टुतिर्मघोनामिदं सूक्तं मरुतो जुषन्त |
आराच्चिद दवेषो वर्षणो युयोत यूयं पात … ||
pra sākamukṣe arcatā ghaṇāya yo daivyasya dhāmnastuviṣmān |
uta kṣodanti rodasī mahitvā nakṣante nākaṃ nirteravaṃśāt ||
janūścid vo marutastveṣyeṇa bhīmāsastuvimanyavo.ayāsaḥ |
pra ye mahobhirojasota santi viśvo vo yāman bhayate svardṛk ||
bṛhad vayo maghavadbhyo dadhāta jujoṣannin marutaḥ suṣṭutiṃ naḥ |
ghato nādhvā vi tirāti jantuṃ pra ṇa spārhābhirūtibhistireta ||
yuṣmoto vipro marutaḥ śatasvī yuṣmoto arvā sahuriḥ sahasrī |
yuṣmotaḥ samrāḷ uta hanti vṛtraṃ pra tad vo astu dhūtayo deṣṇam ||
tānā rudrasya mīḷhuṣo vivāse kuvin naṃsante marutaḥ punarnaḥ |
yat sasvartā jihīḷire yadāvirava tadena īmahe turāṇām ||
prā sā vāci suṣṭutirmaghonāmidaṃ sūktaṃ maruto juṣanta |
ārāccid dveṣo vṛṣaṇo yuyota yūyaṃ pāta … ||
English Translation
Translated by Ralph T.H. Griffith
1. SING to the troop that pours down rain in common, the Mighty Company of celestial nature.
They make the world-halves tremble with their greatness: from depths of earth and sky they reach to heaven.
2 Yea, your birth, Maruts, was with wild commotion, ye who move swiftly, fierce in wrath, terrific.
Ye all-surpassing in your might and vigour, each looker on the light fears at your coming.
3 Give ample vital power unto our princes let our fair praises gratify the Maruts.
As the way travelled helpeth people onward, so further us with your delightful succours.
4 Your favoured singer counts his wealth by hundreds: the strong steed whom ye favour wins a thousand.
The Sovran whom ye aid destroys the foeman. May this your gift, ye Shakers, be distinguished.
5 I call, as such, the Sons of bounteous Rudra: will not the Maruts turn again to us-ward?
What secret sin or open stirs their anger, that we implore the Swift Ones to forgive us.
6 This eulogy of the Bounteous hath been spoken: accept, ye Maruts, this our hymn of praises.
Ye Bulls, keep those who hate us at a distance. Preserve us evermore, ye Gods, with blessings.