What, dear ones, is this might and wealth you bring back from the waters as priests? This sacrifice is your glory, you who protect people and give them treasures.
May your pure horses, those that drink the rain, bring you here swiftly, as a tempest, Swift as thought, with fair backs, full of vigor, radiant in their natural light, O Aśvins.
Your chariot is like a torrent rushing down; may it come near, wide-sitting, for our welfare— Holy, strong, always first, thought-swift, which you, for whom we long, have mounted.
Both of you have sprung to life together, with bodies spotless, marked by signs; One of you, Prince of Sacrifice, the Victorious, the other as Heaven’s auspicious offspring.
May your chariot seat, golden and descending, according to your wish, come near our homes. Men will fill the other’s bay horses and, Aśvins, they will stir the regions with their roars.
Comes forth your strong Bull like a cloud of autumn, sending abundant sweet liquid food. Let them feed with the other’s ways and vigor; the upper streams have come and serve us.
Your constant song has been sent forth, Disposers! That flows in mighty strength, O Aśvins. Thus praised, give the supplicant protection, moving or resting, under my invocation.
This bright song for you swells in the hall where three-fold grass is ready. Your strong rain-cloud, Mighty Ones, has swelled, honoring men as if with milk’s pouring.
The prudent worshipper, like Pūṣan, Aśvins! Praises you as he praises Dawn and Agni, When, with devotion, he invokes you. May we find full abundance of strengthening food.