Ośins, your ancient priest invites you here to share the nectar of Soma. Our offering is on the grass, our song apportioned: with food and strength come here, O Nāsatyas.
That chariot of yours, swifter than thought, O Ośins, drawn by brave steeds that comes to the people, Where you seek the dwellings of the pious—come here to our home, O Heroes.
Sage Atri, honored by the Five Tribes, freed from the deep pit, you Heroes with your people, Frightening the malice of the malignant Dasyu, repelling them, mighty in succession.
Rebha, the sage, you mighty Heroes, O Ośins! Like a horse, vile men had sunk in water— With your wondrous power, you rescued him wounded; your old-time exploits endure forever.
You brought forth Vandana, you Wonder-Workers, for victory, like fair gold that has been buried, Like one who slept in destruction’s embrace, or like the Sun when dwelling in the darkness.
Kakṣīvān, Pajra’s son, must praise that exploit of yours, Nāsatyas, Heroes, you who wander! When from the hoof of your strong horse you showered a hundred jars of honey for the people.
To Kṛṣṇa’s son, to Viśvaka who praised you, O Heroes, you restored his son Viṣṇāpū. To Ghoṣā, living in her father’s dwelling, stricken in years, you gave a husband, O Ośins.
Ruṣatī, of the mighty people, O Ośins, you gave to Śyāva of the Kaṇva lineage. This deed of yours, you Strong Ones should be celebrated, that you gave glory to the son of Nṛṣad.
O Ośins, wearing many forms at pleasure, on Pedu you bestowed a fleet-footed horse, Strong, winning a thousand spoils, resistless the serpent slayer, glorious, triumphant.
These glorious things are yours, ye Generous Givers; prayer, praise in both worlds are your abode. O Ośins, when the sons of Pajra call you, send strength with nourishment to him who knows.
Hymned with the reverence of a son, O