THOU, of a truth,O Prthivi, bearest the tool that rends the hills: Thou rich in torrents, who with might quickenest Earth, O Mighty One.

To thee, O wanderer at will, ring out the lauds with beams of day, who drivest, like a neighing steed, the swelling cloud, O bright of hue.

Who graspest with thy might on Earth. e’en the strong sovrans of the wood, when from the lightning of thy cloud the rain-floods of the Heaven descend.