The clothes you wear are filled with abundance; your plans are constant. All lies, Mitra-Varuṇa! You triumph, and hold fast to the Eternal Law.
Their power none can grasp. The wise man spoke a true word, a fearsome three-pronged bolt, Smashing the three-pronged, and those who hate the gods fall first and perish.
The Unfooted One leads the footed ones. Who sees, Mitra-Varuṇa, this deed of yours? The Unborn Child supports this world’s burden, fulfills the Law and conquers falsehood.
We see him, the darling of the maidens, ever advancing, never falling backward, Wearing unbroken, wide-spreading garments, Mitra’s and Varuṇa’s delightful glory.
Unbridled Horse, born but not of horses, neighing he flies with his back upraised. The youthful love, surpassing thoughts, praising in Mitra-Varuṇa, its splendor.
May the cows that favor Māmateya prosper in this world for the devotee. May he, skilled in rituals, be sustenance, and with his lips call Aditi to assist us.
Gods, Mitra-Varuṇa, with love and worship, may I make you delight in this offering. May our prayer be victorious in battles, may we have rain from heaven to prosper.