May Tishtrya's rain bring fruition to our fields

Thou, Ahura Mazda, hast created Tishtrya, the radiant, glorious star genius of the rain, the lord of all other stars, for the fertility of the fields and farms and all other lands. Men and beasts and birds and plants and trees and rivers and streams and thirsty earth look eagerly and entreatingly to the rising of the star Tishtrya, that, in gushing torrents, he may send a flood of rain to fertilize their lands and bestow riches upon the earth. The farmer yearns for the refreshing showers of Tishtrya to water his parched fields, the gardener looks for a shower to brighten the foliage. With rich harvests does the land smile, when the rain Yazata favors it with his fertilizing waters. The drops of the rain of Tishtrya are like watery seeds that the benevolent sky scatters over the fields and spreads fertility all around.

Apaosha, the adversary of Tishtrya, struggles to keep back the rain and to hold the earth in clutch through famine and drought. In vain do we pray for the rain. A relentless heaven rains not and the land bears no crops. The desert wind scatters the clouds that look black and frown with angry look. The crashes of thunder and flashing lightnings and storm prevent the rains from coming. Disaster stares us in the face.

Then when in heart-felt humility we pray unto thee, Ahura Mazda, thou hear our supplications and impart renewed strength to Tishtrya in his war against the elements. Up rises the bright and glorious Tishtrya from the sea Vourukasha. The atmosphere absorbs water that evaporates from the seas and the land. Vapors rise above and the wind of Vayu, laden with moisture, blows over the hills and hillocks and mountains that raise their proud heads to the sky. There do the clouds rest on the stony bosoms. As the shepherd-dog drives the woolly sheep, so does the wind of Vayu drive the heavy laden clouds before it. The thick dark clouds bearing water swim in heaven. Tishtrya compresses them even as a man squeezes the sponges fined with water. The clouds now pour heavily in sheets, the silver bars of the torrential rain pelt down on the big-seeded corn fields and the small-seeded pasture field and the orchards and the land everywhere that grow food and fodder for men and beasts.

Hail unto Tishtrya who rains his fertilizing blessings over the earth. The fields do smile and trees do rejoice and the animals are gladdened. To the sound of the patter of raindrops on the leaves of the trees do the birds sing their melodious songs. Let us then sing to the greatness and glory of the lord our God and pray unto him in thankfulness.

This page was last updated on Friday, February 11, 2005.