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Sacred Books of the East by Various
page 24 of 570 (04%)
Who are these resplendent men, dwelling together, the boys of Rudra,
also with good horses? No one indeed knows their births, they alone know
each other's birthplace. They plucked each other with their beaks; the
hawks, rushing like the wind, strove together. A wise man understands
these secrets, that Prisni, the great, bore an udder. May that clan be
rich in heroes by the Maruts, always victorious, rich in manhood! They
are quickest to go, most splendid with splendor, endowed with beauty,
strong with strength. Strong is your strength, steadfast your powers,
and thus by the Maruts is this clan mighty. Resplendent is your breath,
furious are the minds of the wild host, like a shouting maniac. Keep
from us entirely your flame, let not your hatred reach us here. I call
on the dear names of your swift ones, so that the greedy should be
satisfied, O Maruts, the well-armed, the swift, decked with beautiful
chains, who themselves adorn their bodies. Bright are the libations for
you, the bright ones, O Maruts, a bright sacrifice I prepare for the
bright. In proper order came those who truly follow the order, the
bright born, the bright, the pure. On your shoulders, O Maruts, are the
rings, on your chests the golden chains are fastened; far-shining like
lightnings with showers, you wield your weapons, according to your wont.
Your hidden splendors come forth; spread out your powers, O racers!
Accept, O Maruts, this thousandfold, domestic share, as an offering for
the house-gods. If you thus listen, O Maruts, to this praise, at the
invocation of the powerful sage, give him quickly a share of wealth in
plentiful offspring, which no selfish enemy shall be able to hurt. The
Maruts, who are fleet like racers, the manly youths, shone like Yakshas;
they are beautiful like boys standing round the hearth, they play about
like calves who are still sucking. May the bounteous Maruts be gracious
to us, opening up to us the firm heaven and earth. May that bolt of
yours which kills cattle and men be far from us! Incline to us, O Vasus,
with your favors. The Hotri priest calls on you again and again, sitting
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