and crushing, so, O Maruts, is your gift delightful, like the largess of a liberal worshipper, wide-spreading, laughing like heavenly lightning.  From the tires of their chariot-wheels streams gush forth, when they send out the voice of the clouds; the lightnings smiled upon the earth, when the Maruts shower down fatness.  Prisni brought forth for the great fight the terrible train of the untiring Maruts:  when fed they produced the dark cloud, and then looked about for invigorating food.  May this praise, O Maruts, this song of Mandarya, the son of Mana, the poet, ask you with food for offspring for ourselves!  May we have an invigorating autumn, with quickening rain!

VI

The Maruts charged with rain, endowed with fierce force, terrible like wild beasts, blazing in their strength, brilliant like fires, and impetuous, have uncovered the rain-giving cows by blowing away the cloud.  The Maruts with their rings appeared like the heavens with their stars, they shone wide like streams from clouds as soon as Rudra, the strong man, was born for you, O golden-breasted Maruts, in the bright lap of Prisni.  They wash their horses like racers in the courses, they hasten with the points of the reed on their quick steeds.  O golden-jawed Maruts, violently shaking your jaws, you go quick with your spotted deer, being friends of one mind.  Those Maruts have grown to feed all these beings, or, it may be, they have come hither for the sake of a friend, they who always bring quickening rain.  They have spotted horses, their bounties cannot be taken away, they are like headlong charioteers on their ways.  O Maruts, wielding your brilliant spears, come hither on smooth roads with your fiery cows whose udders are swelling; being of one mind, like swans toward their nests, to enjoy the sweet offering.  O one-minded Maruts, come to our prayers, come to our libations like Indra praised by men!  Fulfil our prayer, like the udder of a barren cow, and make the prayer glorious by booty to the singer.  Grant us this strong horse for our chariot, a draught that rouses our prayers, from day to day, food to the singers, and to the poet in our homesteads luck, wisdom, inviolable and invincible strength.  When the gold-breasted Maruts harness the horses to their chariots, bounteous in wealth, then it is as if a cow in the folds poured out to her calf copious food, to every man who has offered libations.  Whatever mortal enemy may have placed us among wolves, shield us from hurt, ye Vasus!  Turn the wheels with burning heat against him, and strike down the weapon of the impious fiend, O Rudras!  Your march, O Maruts, appears brilliant, whether even friends have milked the udder of Prisni, or whether, O sons of Rudra, you mean to blame him who praises you, and to weaken those who are weakening Trita, O unbeguiled heroes.  We invoke you, the great Maruts, the constant wanderers, at the offering of the rapid Vishnu; holding ladles and prayerful we