WHAT may we meditate for the beloved Power, mighty in native strength and glorious in itself, Which as a magic energy seeking waters spreads even to theimmeasurable middle region's cloud?
O'er all the region with their uniform advance these have spread out the lore that giveth heroes strength. Back, with their course reversed, the others pass away: the pious lengthens life with those that are before.
With pressing-stones and with the bright beams of the day he hurls his broadest bolt against the Guileful One. Even he whose hundred wander in his own abode, driving the days afar and bringing them again.
I, to enjoy the beauty of his form, behold that rapid rush of his as ’twere an axe's edge, What time he gives the man who calls on him in fight wealth like a dwelling-house filled full with store of food.
Four-faced and nobly clad, Varuṇa, urging on the pious to his task, stirs himself with the tongue. Naught by our human nature do we know of him, him from whom Bhaga Savitar bestows the boon.