Songs

Mighty Warriors,
Children of Thunder,
Glorious Maruts,
Heralds of storm!
Through the gloom
Gathering round us
Ye and your horses
Appear in the sky;
Glowing like flames
From the holy fire
That springs from the altar,
Rising to God.

Flashing sword blades,
Tramping of horses,
Shouting of riders
Fill the sky!
Ye are seen
Spreading a mantle,
Cov'ring the heavens
And hiding the sun.
Then from above 'midst
The lightning's bright gleam,
Rejoicing in freedom,
Falleth the rain.

Rushing onward
Hurling your weapons,
Chanting your war songs
Nearer ye come!
We would fain
Welcome you fitly,
But faint are our voices
And feeble our lays.
Come then, dwell within us,
With your power inspire our hearts,
Then shall our songs,
Like clouds expanding,
Carry your glory
Throughout the world.

_trans. Holst, from the original Sanskrit_