Come, radiant Aśvins, with your noble horses; accept my hymn, ye Wonder-Workers: Enjoy the offerings I bring to greet you.
The sweet juices stand ready before you; come quickly and partake of my offering. Pass by the call of our foe and carry us.
Your chariot with a hundred aids, O Aśvins, races swiftly across the lands, Swiftly reaching us, O ye whose wealth is Sūrya.
When you raise your stone, the Adorer of the Gods, and it presses Soma, let the priest bring you, Fair Ones, through the offerings.
The nourishment you provide is truly wondrous; you gave Atri a quickening store, Who, dear to you, receives your favor.
That gift, which all may gain, you gave Cyavāna when he grew old, offering you sacrifices, When you bestowed on him enduring beauty.
When your wicked friends abandoned Bhujyu, O Aśvins, in the middle of the ocean, Your horse delivered him, your faithful servant.
You lent your aid to Vrka when he was exhausted, and listened to Śayu's call. You made the cow pour forth her milk like water, and, Aśvins, strengthened the barren.
This singer, too, extols you with fair hymns, waking with glad thoughts at the dawn. May the cow nourish him with milk to feed him. Preserve us evermore, ye Gods, with blessings.