Vāyu, O wind-god! Thou art the first to drink the soma when it is pressed! Before all the other gods, before Indra himself, the soma cometh first to thy lips. Thou art honored among all the divine ones for thy swiftness and thy power.

O mighty wind, thou art everywhere! Thou canst not be seen, yet thy presence is felt in every corner of the world. Thou dost carry the scent of the flowers across the meadows. Thou dost push the clouds across the sky. Thou dost stir the waters of the sea into great waves. Thou art the breath of life itself, for without thee, all creatures would perish.

The warriors do invoke thy name before they go forth to battle, for thou art swift and strong. The merchant doth pray to thee, asking that thou might'st fill his sails and carry him safely across the sea. The farmer doth look to thee to bring the monsoon rains to his fields. Thou art essential to all aspects of mortal life.

O Vāyu, thou ridest in thy golden chariot across the sky! Thy steeds are the clouds themselves, swift and tireless. Thou dost travel from the highest mountains to the deepest valleys. No barrier can stop thee. No door can keep thee out. Thou art the most mobile of all the gods.

When we kindle the sacred fires and offer thee the soma, thy presence doth come near to us. Thou dost smell the sweet aroma of our offerings. Thou dost hear our voices calling out to thee. And in thy pleasure, thou dost grant us thy blessings. May thy swift winds carry our prayers to all the gods!