His bright rays carry him up high, the God who knows all living beings, Surya, that all may see him.
The constellations pass away, like thieves, along with their beams, Before the all-seeing Sun.
His radiant rays are seen far off, across the world of men, Like flames of fire that burn and blaze.
Swift and all beautiful art thou, O Surya, maker of the light, Illuming all the radiant realm.
You go to the company of gods, you come here to humans, Here to behold all light.
With that same eye of yours by which you make Varuṇa brilliant, Upon the busy race of men,
Traveling through the sky and wide air, you measure out our days, Sun, seeing all that comes into being.
Seven swift horses pull your chariot, O you far-sighted One, God, Surya, with the radiant hair.
Surya has yoked the pure, bright seven, the daughters of the chariot; with these, His own dear team, he goes forth.
Looking at the higher light above the darkness, we have come To Surya, God among the gods, the best light.
Rising today, O rich in friends, ascending to the higher heaven, Surya remove my heart's disease, take from me this yellow hue.
To parrots and to starlings give my yellowness away, Or transfer it to Haritāla trees.
With all his victorious might this Aditya has gone up high, Giving my enemy into my hands: let me not be my enemy's prey.