When you sit by the side-benches where you have prepared, as if like the Maruts by some path, the vessels overflow; you pour clarified butter into chariots and offer honey-colored libations.

When, Maruts, flying like birds along a certain path (of the sky), you collect the moving passing (clouds) in the nearest portions (of the firmament), then, coming into collision with your cars, they pour forth (the waters); therefore, do you shower upon your worshipper the honey-coloured rain.

When, Maruts, on the steeps ye pile the moving cloud, ye are like birds on whatsoever path it be. Clouds everywhere shed forth the rain upon your cars. Drop fatness, honey-hued, for him who sings your praise.