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Rig Veda (Griffith tr.)

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  • Book The Tenth
    • HYMN XCVIII. The Gods.
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HYMN XCVIII. The Gods.

1. COME, be thou Mitra, Varuna, or Pusan, come, O Brhaspati, to mine oblation:

With Maruts, Vasus, or Adityas, make thou Parjanya pour for Santanu his rain-drops.

2 The God, intelligent, the speedy envoy whom thou hast sent hath come to me, Devapi:

Address thyself to me and turn thee hither within thy lips will I put brilliant language.

3 Within my mouth, Brhaspati, deposit speech lucid, vigorous, and free from weakness,

Thereby to win for Santanu the rain-fall. The meath-rich drop from heaven hath passed within it.

4 Let the sweet drops descend on us, O Indra: give us enough to lade a thousand wagons.

Sit to thy Hotar task; pay worship duly, and serve the Gods, Devapi, with oblation.

5 Knowing the God's good-will, Devapi, Rsi, the son of Rstisena, sate as Hotar.

He hath brought down from heaven's most lofty summit the ocean of the rain, celestial waters.

6 Gathered together in that highest ocean, the waters stood by deities obstructed.

They burried down set free by Arstisena, in gaping clefts, urged onward by Devapi.

7 When as chief priest for Santanu, Devapi, chosen for Hotar's duty, prayed beseeching,

Graciously pleased Brhaspati vouchsafed him a voice that reached the Gods and won the waters.

8 O Agni whom Devapi Arstisena, the mortal man, hath kindled in his glory,

Joying in him with all the Gods together, urge on the sender of the rain, Parjanya.

9 All ancient Rsis with their songs approached thee, even thee, O Much-invoked, at sacrifices.

We have provided wagon-loads in thousands: come to the solemn rite, Lord of Red Horses.

10 The wagon-loads, the nine-and-ninety thousand, these have been offered up to thee, O Agni.

Hero, with these increase thy many bodies, and, stimulated, send us rain from heaven.

11 Give thou these ninety thousand loads, O Agni, to Indra, to the Bull, to be his portion.

Knowing the paths which Deities duly travel, set mid the Gods in heaven Aulana also.

12 O Agni, drive afar our foes, our troubles chase malady away and wicked demons.

From this air-ocean, from the lofty heavens, send down on us a mighty flood of waters.




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