Text:

Rig Veda Book 7 Hymn 58 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 … ||

Translation:

Rig Veda

  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.