Your car, the swiftly-rolling, circumambient,
To be saluted day and night by worshippers,
Asvins, that car of yours we here invoke,
Just as the name of father, easy to entreat.

Arouse the lovely hymns and make our thoughts to swell,
Stir up abundant riches,—that is our desire;
Make glorious our heritage, ye Asvin pair;
Yea, make us for our princes like the Soma dear.

Ye are good luck for her who groweth old at home;
The slow—yea even the slowest one—ye help him on;
Ye two are called physicians, healers of the blind,
Yea of the feeble and the one with broken limbs.

I call to you, O Asvins, listen to my cry,
And give your help to me as parents to a son;
Friendless am I, bereft of relative, and poor,
Save me, O save me from the curse which rests on me.

Upon your chariot ye did bring to Vimada,
To be his consort, Purumitra's lovely maid;
Came to the weakling's wife in answer to her call,
And to Puramdhi gave the boon of motherhood.

Unto the singer Kali, who had reached old age,
Ye gave anew the boon of fresh and youthful strength;
'Twas you that lifted Vandana from out the pit;
Ye gave to Vispala the power at once to walk.

On Pedu, Asvins, ye bestowed a snow-white horse,
Whose strength from forces ninety-nine compounded is,
A steed, praiseworthy, bearing rider at full speed,
Bliss-yielding, Bhaga-like, to be invoked of men.

Come on that chariot which is speedier than thought,
That chariot, Asvins, which the Ribhus built for you;
On yoking which the daughter of the sky is born.
And from Vivasvat the auspicious day and night.

This praise-song have we made for you, O Asvins,
Have fashioned it as Bhrigus build a wagon;
Have decked it as the bride is for the bridegroom,
Presenting it to you as our own offspring.