The milky cow of the Ancients yields what we seek; the Son of Dakṣiṇā travels between them. She with the splendid chariot brings brilliance. The praise of Uṣas has woken the Aśvins.
You carry us hither by well-established law; our sacred offerings rise as if to parents. Destroy in us the plans of the miserly who come hitherward, for we have shown you favor.
With a lightly rolling chariot and yoked horses, hear this, the press-stone’s song, ye Wonder-workers. Did not the wise of old call you most swiftly to come and stay? Ye Aśvins, did they not?
Remember us, and come to us, ever men, as they do, invoke the Aśvins. As friends, they have offered you these juices, sweet, blended with milk at the dawn’s first light.
Among mankind, high praise is yours, O ye Aśvins, mighty ones—come, helpers, on the paths that gods have trod. Here, your libations of sweet meath are ready, ready for the paths that gods have traveled.
Ancient is your home, auspicious is your friendship—heroes, your wealth is with the house of Jahnu. Forming again with you auspicious friendship, let us rejoice together with meath.
O Aśvins, Very Mighty ones, with Vāyu and his steeds, one-minded, ever-youthful, Nāsatyas, joying in the third day’s Soma, drink it, not hostile, Very Bounteous Givers.
Aśvins, abundant food is brought to you in rivalry with sacred songs, ceaseless. Your car, sprung from high Law, urged on by press-stones, circles the earth and heaven in one brief moment.
Aśvins, your Soma sheds delicious sweetness—drink ye thereof and come unto our dwelling. Your car, taking many forms, often goes to the Soma-presser’s place of meeting.