Rig Veda
pra va spaﾱ akran suvitāya dāvane 'rcā dive pra pṛthivyā ṛtam bhare ukṣante aśvān taruṣanta ā rajo 'nu svam bhānuṃ śrathayante arṇavaiḥ
Your spy hath called to you to give prosperity. I sing to Heaven and Earth and offer sacrifice. They bathe their steeds and hasten through the firmament: they spread abroad their radiance through the sea of cloud.
amād eṣām bhiyasā bhūmir ejati naur na pūrṇā kṣarati vyathir yatī dūredṛśo ye citayanta emabhir antar mahe vidathe yetire naraḥ
Earth shakes and reels in terror at their onward rush, like a full ship which, quivering, lets the water in. Marked on their ways are they, visible from afar: the Heroes press between in mighty armament.
This verse is not included in this edition.
As the exalted horn of bulls for splendid might, as the Sun's eye set in the firmament's expanse, Like vigorous horses ye are beauteous to behold, and for your glory show like bridegrooms, O ye Men.
ko vo mahānti mahatām ud aśnavat kas kāvyā marutaḥ ko ha pauṃsyā yūyaṃ ha bhūmiṃ kiraṇaṃ na rejatha pra yad bharadhve suvitāya dāvane
Who, O ye Maruts, may attain the mighty lore of you the mighty, who may reach your manly deeds? Ye, verily, make earth tremble like a ray of light what time ye bring your boons to give prosperity,
This verse is not included in this edition.
Like steeds of ruddy colour, scions of one race, as foremost champions they have battled in the van. The Heroes have waxed strong like we.1grown manly youths; with floods of rain they make the Sun's eye fade away,
te ajyeṣṭhā akaniṣṭhāsa udbhido 'madhyamāso mahasā vi vāvṛdhuḥ sujātāso januṣā pṛśnimātaro divo maryā ā no acchā jigātana
Having no eldest and no youngest in their band, no middlemost, preeminent they have waxed in might, These Sons of Prisni, sprung of noble ancestry: come hitherward to us, ye bridegrooms of the sky.
This verse is not included in this edition.
Like birds of air they flew with might in lengthened lines from heaven's high ridges to the borders of the sky. The steeds who carry them, as Gods and mortals know, have caused the waters of the mountains to descend.
mimātu dyaur aditir vītaye naḥ saṃ dānucitrā uṣaso yatantām ācucyavur divyaṃ kośam eta ṛṣe rudrasya maruto gṛṇānāḥ
May Dyaus, the Infinite, roar for our banquet: may Dawns toil for us, glittering with moisture. Lauded by thee, these Maruts, Sons o Rudra, O Rishi, have sent down the heavenly treasure.