To the great Hero, who sets his mind on you, and Viṣṇu, sing out in song your Soma draught— No gods have ever been deceived, borne as if by a noble steed, they stand upon the hilltops.
Your Soma-drinker keeps far off your furious charge, Indra and Viṣṇu, when you come with all your might. What mortals have done well, Arjuna’s bow, you turn far away.
These offerings strengthen his mighty strength; he brings both parents down to share the sweet Soma. Though a son, he lowers the Father’s highest name; the third is that which shines in heaven’s light.
We praise this manly power of the Mighty One, the protector, gentle, generous, kind; He who strode, pacing wide, with three steps over the realms of earth for freedom and for life.
A mortal man, when he sees two steps of him who looks upon the light, is filled with wonder and unrest. But his third step no one dares to approach, not even the feathered birds of air that fly with wings.
Like a wheel in swift motion, he has set his ninety racing horses together with the four. Formidable and vast in shape, with those who sing its praises, a youth, no longer a child, he comes to our call.