to ask for your brotherhood; take care of us, ye Maruts, for your friendship lasts forever.  O bounteous Maruts, bring us some of your Marut-medicine, you friends, and steeds.  With the favors whereby you favor the Sindhu, whereby you save, whereby you help Krivi, with those propitious favors be our delight, O delightful ones, ye who never hate your followers.  O Maruts, for whom we have prepared good altars, whatever medicine there is on the Sindhu, on the Asikni, in the seas, on the mountains, seeing it, you carry it all on your bodies.  Bless us with it!  Down to the earth, O Maruts, with what hurts our sick one—­straighten what is crooked!

XVII

Full of devotion like priests with their prayers, wealthy like pious men, who please the gods with their offerings, beautiful to behold like brilliant kings, without a blemish like the youths of our hamlets—­they who are gold-breasted like Agni with his splendor, quick to help like self-harnessed winds, good leaders like the oldest experts, they are to the righteous man like Somas, that yield the best protection.  They who are roaring and hasting like winds, brilliant like the tongues of fires, powerful like mailed soldiers, full of blessings like the prayers of our fathers, who hold together like the spokes of chariot-wheels, who glance forward like victorious heroes, who scatter ghrita like wooing youths, who chant beautifully like singers, intoning a hymn of praise, who are swift like the best of horses, who are bounteous like lords of chariots on a suit, who are hastening on like water with downward floods, who are like the manifold Angiras with their numerous songs.  These noble sons of Sindhu are like grinding-stones, they are always like Soma-stones, tearing everything to pieces; these sons of a good mother are like playful children, they are by their glare like a great troop on its march.  Illumining the sacrifice like the rays of the dawn, they shone forth in their ornaments like triumphant warriors; the Maruts with bright spears seem like running rivers, from afar they measure many miles.  O gods, make us happy and rich, prospering us, your praisers, O Maruts!  Remember our praise and our friendship, for from of old there are always with you gifts of treasures.

XVIII

O Indra, a thousand have been thy helps accorded to us, a thousand, O driver of the bays, have been thy most delightful viands.  May thousands of treasures richly to enjoy, may goods come to us a thousandfold.  May the Maruts come towards us with their aids, the mighty ones, or with their best aids from the great heaven, now that their furthest steeds have rushed forth on the distant shore of the sea; there clings to the Maruts one who moves in secret, like a man’s wife,[2] and who is like a spear carried behind, well grasped, resplendent, gold-adorned; there is also with them Vak,[3] like unto a courtly, eloquent woman.