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Rigveda 1.167

Ṛgvedasaṃhitā 1.167

Language
Sanskrit

1.167.1

sa̱hasra̍ṁ ta indro̱tayo̍ naḥ sa̱hasra̱m iṣo̍ harivo gū̱rtata̍māḥ |
sa̱hasra̱ṁ rāyo̍ māda̱yadhyai̍ saha̱sriṇa̱ upa̍ no yantu̱ vājā̍ḥ ||

A THOUSAND are thy helps for us, O Indra: a thousand, Lord of Bays, thy choice refreshments. Wealth of a thousand sorts hast thou to cheer us: may precious goods come nigh to us in thousands.

Ralph T. H. Griffith 1889, The Hymns of the Rigveda

1.167.2

ā no 'vo̍bhir ma̱ruto̍ yā̱ntv acchā̱ jyeṣṭhe̍bhir vā bṛ̱haddi̍vaiḥ sumā̱yāḥ |
adha̱ yad e̍ṣāṁ ni̱yuta̍ḥ para̱māḥ sa̍mu̱drasya̍ cid dha̱naya̍nta pā̱re ||

May the most sapient Maruts, with protection, with best boons brought from lofty heaven, approach us, Now when their team of the most noble horses speeds even on the sea's extremest limit.

Ralph T. H. Griffith 1889, The Hymns of the Rigveda

1.167.3

mi̱myakṣa̱ yeṣu̱ sudhi̍tā ghṛ̱tācī̱ hira̍ṇyanirṇi̱g upa̍rā̱ na ṛ̱ṣṭiḥ |
guhā̱ cara̍ntī̱ manu̍ṣo̱ na yoṣā̍ sa̱bhāva̍tī vida̱thye̍va̱ saṁ vāk ||

Close to them clings one moving in seclusion, like a man's wife, like a spear carried rearward, Well grasped, bright, decked with gold there is Vâk also, like to a courtly, eloquent dame, among them.

Ralph T. H. Griffith 1889, The Hymns of the Rigveda

1.167.4

parā̍ śu̱bhrā a̱yāso̍ ya̱vyā sā̍dhāra̱ṇyeva̍ ma̱ruto̍ mimikṣuḥ |
na ro̍da̱sī apa̍ nudanta gho̱rā ju̱ṣanta̱ vṛdha̍ṁ sa̱khyāya̍ de̱vāḥ ||

Far off the brilliant, never-weary Maruts cling to the young Maid as a joint possession. The fierce Gods drave not Rodasî before them, but wished for her to grow their friend and fellow.

Ralph T. H. Griffith 1889, The Hymns of the Rigveda

1.167.5

joṣa̱d yad ī̍m asu̱ryā̍ sa̱cadhyai̱ viṣi̍tastukā roda̱sī nṛ̱maṇā̍ḥ |
ā sū̱ryeva̍ vidha̱to ratha̍ṁ gāt tve̱ṣapra̍tīkā̱ nabha̍so̱ netyā ||

When chose immortal Rodasî to follow- she with loose tresses and heroic spirit- She climbed her servant's chariot, she like Sûryâ with cloud-like motion and refulgent aspect.

Ralph T. H. Griffith 1889, The Hymns of the Rigveda

1.167.6

āsthā̍payanta yuva̱tiṁ yuvā̍naḥ śu̱bhe nimi̍ślāṁ vi̱dathe̍ṣu pa̱jrām |
a̱rko yad vo̍ maruto ha̱viṣmā̱n gāya̍d gā̱thaṁ su̱taso̍mo duva̱syan ||

Upon their car the young men set the Maiden wedded to glory, mighty in assemblies, When your song, Maruts, rose, and, with oblation, the Soma-pourer sang his hymn in worship.

Ralph T. H. Griffith 1889, The Hymns of the Rigveda

1.167.7

pra taṁ vi̍vakmi̱ vakmyo̱ ya e̍ṣām ma̱rutā̍m mahi̱mā sa̱tyo asti̍ |
sacā̱ yad ī̱ṁ vṛṣa̍maṇā aha̱ṁyuḥ sthi̱rā ci̱j janī̱r vaha̍te subhā̱gāḥ ||

I will declare the greatness of these Maruts, their real greatness, worthy to be lauded, How, with them, she though firm, strong-minded, haughty, travels to women happy in their fortune.

Ralph T. H. Griffith 1889, The Hymns of the Rigveda

1.167.8

pānti̍ mi̱trāvaru̍ṇāv ava̱dyāc caya̍ta īm arya̱mo apra̍śastān |
u̱ta cya̍vante̱ acyu̍tā dhru̱vāṇi̍ vāvṛ̱dha ī̍m maruto̱ dāti̍vāraḥ ||

Mitra and Varuṇa they guard from censure: Aryaman too, discovers worthless sinners Firm things are overthrown that ne'er were shaken: he prospers, Maruts, who gives choice oblations.

Ralph T. H. Griffith 1889, The Hymns of the Rigveda

1.167.9

na̱hī nu vo̍ maruto̱ anty a̱sme ā̱rāttā̍c ci̱c chava̍so̱ anta̍m ā̱puḥ |
te dhṛ̱ṣṇunā̱ śava̍sā śūśu̱vāṁso 'rṇo̱ na dveṣo̍ dhṛṣa̱tā pari̍ ṣṭhuḥ ||

None of us, Maruts, near or at a distance, hath ever reached the limit of your vigour. They in courageous might still waxing boldly have compassed round their foemen like an ocean.

Ralph T. H. Griffith 1889, The Hymns of the Rigveda

1.167.10

va̱yam a̱dyendra̍sya̱ preṣṭhā̍ va̱yaṁ śvo vo̍cemahi sama̱rye |
va̱yam pu̱rā mahi̍ ca no̱ anu̱ dyūn tan na̍ ṛbhu̱kṣā na̱rām anu̍ ṣyāt ||

May we this day be dearest friends of Indra, and let us call on him in fight to-morrow. So were we erst. New might attend us daily! So be with us! Ṛibhukshan of the Heroes!

Ralph T. H. Griffith 1889, The Hymns of the Rigveda

1.167.11

e̱ṣa va̱ḥ stomo̍ maruta i̱yaṁ gīr mā̍ndā̱ryasya̍ mā̱nyasya̍ kā̱roḥ |
eṣā yā̍sīṣṭa ta̱nve̍ va̱yāṁ vi̱dyāme̱ṣaṁ vṛ̱jana̍ṁ jī̱radā̍num ||

May this your laud, may this your song, O Maruts, sung by the poet, Mâna's son, Mândârya, Bring offspring for ourselves with. food to feed us. May we find strengthening food in full abundance.

Ralph T. H. Griffith 1889, The Hymns of the Rigveda

Translations (7)

Commentaries (10)

Other recensions (1)

Linked texts (17)