That valor of yours, O Maruts, the greatness wide and far — the Sun does not equal it by a yojana. Those are the nights not seized by lamentation, those steeds that do not weary, by which you ascend the mountain by rightful effort.

Your prowess, Maruts, has spread wide your glory as the sun (sends afar his) radiance, or the white (horses of the gods travel far) in their course; of unbounded lustre, you close the cloud withholding the waters.

Maruts, this hero strength and majesty of yours hath, like the Sun, extended o'er a lengthened way, When in your course like deer with splendour unsubdued ye bowed the hill that gives imperishable rain.