O Maruts, the storm gods, the wild and terrible ones! Ye who ride upon the winds with thy bands of warriors, thy voices thundering across the heavens, thy presence shaking the earth! This is the final hymn of Mandala Five. Hear us one last time.

Ye are the sons of Rudra, fierce and relentless, adorned with golden ornaments, bearing weapons of lightning and hail. Your horses race before the wind. Your chariots are drawn by steeds that know no weariness. When ye march forth, the earth trembleth and the mountains bow before thy passing.

Yet ye are also the protectors of the herds and the guardians of the fields. Your rains nourish the crops. Your wind scattereth the seeds far and wide. Ye bring the relief of coolness in the burning heat. Ye drive away the stagnant air that bringeth disease. Without thee, the world would become a barren waste.

We have sung thy praises throughout this great book of songs, O mighty Maruts. We have honored thee in our hymns and our rituals. The soma floweth forth in thy honor. The sacred fires burn for thee. The priests have called thy names and made thee offerings.

Now, as Mandala Five closeth, we offer thee this benediction: Be merciful to the Ārya people. Guard our cattle and our children. Bring us rain without excess, wind without destruction. Temper thy terrible power with compassion.

O Maruts, go forth into the world, but remember those who have honored thee. Carry thy strength throughout the cosmos. Maintain the balance between chaos and order, between the wild forces of nature and the peace that mortals seek.

Hail to thee, O Maruts! Hail, mighty storm gods! May thy glory endure forever.