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Rigveda 1.168

Ṛgvedasaṃhitā 1.168

Language
Sanskrit

1.168.1

ya̱jñā-ya̍jñā vaḥ sama̱nā tu̍tu̱rvaṇi̱r dhiya̍ṁ-dhiyaṁ vo deva̱yā u̍ dadhidhve |
ā vo̱ 'rvāca̍ḥ suvi̱tāya̱ roda̍syor ma̱he va̍vṛtyā̱m ava̍se suvṛ̱ktibhi̍ḥ ||

SWIFT gain is his who hath you near at every rite: ye welcome every song of himwho serves the Gods. So may I turn you hither with fair hymns of praise to give great succour for the weal of both the worlds.

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

1.168.2

va̱vrāso̱ na ye sva̱jāḥ svata̍vasa̱ iṣa̱ṁ sva̍r abhi̱jāya̍nta̱ dhūta̍yaḥ |
sa̱ha̱sriyā̍so a̱pāṁ normaya̍ ā̱sā gāvo̱ vandyā̍so̱ nokṣaṇa̍ḥ ||

Surrounding, as it were, self-born, self-powerful, they spring to life the shakers-down of food and light; Like as the countess undulations of the floods, worthy of praise when near, like bullocks and like kine.

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

1.168.3

somā̍so̱ na ye su̱tās tṛ̱ptāṁśa̍vo hṛ̱tsu pī̱tāso̍ du̱vaso̱ nāsa̍te |
aiṣā̱m aṁse̍ṣu ra̱mbhiṇī̍va rārabhe̱ haste̍ṣu khā̱diś ca̍ kṛ̱tiś ca̱ saṁ da̍dhe ||

They who, like Somas with their well-grown stalks pressed out, imbibed within the heart, dwell there in friendly wise. Upon their shoulders rests as 'twere a warrior's spear and in their hand they hold a dagger and a ring.

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

1.168.4

ava̱ svayu̍ktā di̱va ā vṛthā̍ yayu̱r ama̍rtyā̱ḥ kaśa̍yā codata̱ tmanā̍ |
a̱re̱ṇava̍s tuvijā̱tā a̍cucyavur dṛ̱ḻhāni̍ cin ma̱ruto̱ bhrāja̍dṛṣṭayaḥ ||

Self-yoked they have descended lightly from the sky. With your own lash, Immortals, urge yourselve's to speed. Unstained by dust the Maruts, mighty in their strength, have cast down e'en firm things, armed with their shining spears.

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

1.168.5

ko vo̱ 'ntar ma̍ruta ṛṣṭividyuto̱ reja̍ti̱ tmanā̱ hanve̍va ji̱hvayā̍ |
dha̱nva̱cyuta̍ i̱ṣāṁ na yāma̍ni puru̱praiṣā̍ aha̱nyo̱3̱̍ naita̍śaḥ ||

Who among you, O Maruts armed with lightning-spears, moveth you by himself, as with the tongue his jaws? Ye rush from heaven's floor as though ye sought for food, on many errands like the Sun's diurnal Steed.

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

1.168.6

kva̍ svid a̱sya raja̍so ma̱has para̱ṁ kvāva̍ram maruto̱ yasmi̍nn āya̱ya |
yac cyā̱vaya̍tha vithu̱reva̱ saṁhi̍ta̱ṁ vy adri̍ṇā patatha tve̱ṣam a̍rṇa̱vam ||

Say where, then, is this mighty region's farthest bound, where, Maruts, is the lowest depth that ye have reached, When ye cast down like chaff the firmly stablished pile, and from the mountain send the glittering water-flood?

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

1.168.7

sā̱tir na vo 'ma̍vatī̱ sva̍rvatī tve̱ṣā vipā̍kā maruta̱ḥ pipi̍ṣvatī |
bha̱drā vo̍ rā̱tiḥ pṛ̍ṇa̱to na dakṣi̍ṇā pṛthu̱jrayī̍ asu̱rye̍va̱ jañja̍tī ||

Your winning is with strength, dazzling, with heavenly light, with fruit mature, O Maruts, fall of plenteousness. Auspicious is your gift like a free giver's meed, victorious, spreading far, as of immortal Gods.

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

1.168.8

prati̍ ṣṭobhanti̱ sindha̍vaḥ pa̱vibhyo̱ yad a̱bhriyā̱ṁ vāca̍m udī̱raya̍nti |
ava̍ smayanta vi̱dyuta̍ḥ pṛthi̱vyāṁ yadī̍ ghṛ̱tam ma̱ruta̍ḥ pruṣṇu̱vanti̍ ||

The rivers roar before your chariot fellies when they are uttering the voice of rain-clouds. The lightnings laugh upon the earth beneath them, what time the Maruts scatter forth their fatness.

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

1.168.9

asū̍ta̱ pṛśni̍r maha̱te raṇā̍ya tve̱ṣam a̱yāsā̍m ma̱rutā̱m anī̍kam |
te sa̍psa̱rāso̍ 'janaya̱ntābhva̱m ād it sva̱dhām i̍ṣi̱rām pary a̍paśyan ||

Prani brought forth, to fight the mighty battle, the glittering army of the restless Maruts. Nurtured together they begat the monster, and then looked round them for the food that strengthens.

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

1.168.10

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

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