Come not near your majesty, which extends beyond all bounds and limits with your form, O Viṣṇu. Both your two regions of the earth, O Viṣṇu, we know: you, the God, know the highest also.
No one born or being born, O Viṣṇu, has reached the end of your greatness. You upheld the vast, high sky and securely anchored the eastern peak of the earth.
Be rich in sweet food and milk cows, with lush pastures, eager to serve men. Both these worlds, Viṣṇu, you kept apart and firmly anchored the earth with stakes.
You made space for sacrifices by creating Sūrya, Dawn, and Agni. Heroes, you conquered the cunning and magical schemes of the fierce Dāsa.
You, Indra, and you, Viṣṇu, Śambara, destroyed his ninety-nine fortified castles. You two shattered a hundred times a thousand unyielding heroes of the royal Varca.
This is the lofty hymn of praise, extolling the Lords of Great Stride, the mighty and lofty. I praise you solemnly, Viṣṇu: offer food to us in our camps, O Indra.
O Viṣṇu, my lips call out Vaṣaṭ! May this offering, Sipivista, please you. May these songs of praise exalt you. Protect us always, gods, with blessings.