Your radiant chariot, where does it go? Who decorates it for you, heroes, for its happy journey, Starting at dawn, visiting every house each morning, carried home by prayer to the sacrifice?
Where are you, Aśvins, in the evening, where at dawn? Where do you stop at night, heroes, like a widow her brother-in-law? Who brings you home, as a bride draws her groom, as we call you down at morn and eve?
You sing praises early, like a herald's voice, and each morning you go to the house, meet for worship. Whom do you bring to ruin? To whose libations do you come, heroes, like two sons of kings?
Just as hunters chase two wild elephants, we call you down at morn and eve, chiefs, lords of splendor, bringing food to strengthen them. To those who offer you at appointed times, chiefs, lords of splendor, you bring food to make them strong.
To you, O Aśvins, came the daughter of a king, Ghoṣā, and said, heroes, this I ask of you: Be near me in the day, be near me in the night; help me gain a car-borne chief rich in horses.
O Aśvins, you are wise: just as Kutsa comes to men, bring your chariot near the folk of him who praises you. The bee, O Aśvins, carries your honey in its mouth, just as a maiden carries it purified in her hand.
With help, you come near Bhujyu and Vaśa, O Aśvins, to Sinjara and Uśanā. Your worshipper secures your friendship for himself. Under your protection, I desire happiness.
Krsā and Śayu protect you, O Aśvins, you two: you two assist widows and worshippers. And you open doors, Aśvins, for those who win the cattle stall that roars with thunder.
The woman has given birth, the infant has appeared, the plants of wonder have sprouted straightaway. To him the rivers flow as down a deep descent, and he becomes today his master and lord.
They mourn the living at sacrifice, the men have set their thoughts on a distant place. A lovely thing for fathers who have gathered here, a joy to husbands