O Sūrya, golden! O mighty sun above! We lift to thee our hands and voice of love. Thou art the eye of heaven, bright and strong; the light which guideth all the mortal throng.

Thou risest in the morning, fresh and new, and spreadest thy bright radiance through and through. The darkness flees before thy glowing face; the cold and dampness vanish from their place.

Thy chariot is drawn by mighty steeds that race across the sky with fiery deeds. What force propels them onward, ever on? Where rest they when the day is finally gone?

Thou rulest over all the world below; thou makest all the crops and trees to grow. The life of every creature, great and small, is held within thy vast and glowing ball.

Without thy heat, no seed could ever spring; no warmth, no life that thou could'st bring. The earth would freeze, the waters turn to ice, and life itself would make the darkest price.

We mortals who do dwell within thy rays do lift to thee the glory of our days. Accept our worship, thou who art so bright, thou who dost banish all the dreaded night.

Grant us the blessing of thy constant heat, that all our labors may be made complete. Let thy rays touch our crops and make them grow, and let our cattle ever strong o'erflow.

Let not thy face be turned from us away, but visit us with brightness every day. Keep us in safety through the starlit hours, and grant to us thy all-sustaining powers.

O Sūrya golden, accept our humble prayer, and grant to us forever thy bright care.