Hail to the Aśvins, the twin lords of dawn! Swift as the thought, swifter than the wind, they drive their chariot across the sky. They are the healers, the preservers, the friends of man. Before the sun appeareth, lo—the Aśvins have already journeyed far.

Ye golden-armed ones! Ye riders of the morning! We invoke you as the dawn breaketh. Your chariot is drawn by swift horses—some say by birds, some say by the very rays of light themselves. How swift is your passage! No mortal eye can follow you.

Ye have healed the blind; ye have restored the lame to walking. The man who was broken hath been made whole by your grace. Ye are merciful toward those who suffer. Not for the proud and the strong do ye care, but for the afflicted, the outcast, the sick.

In days of old, ye came to rescue those in peril. When the ship was wrecked upon the rocks, ye drew it forth. When the warrior lay dying upon the field, ye revived him. Ye are swift to aid, swift to comfort, swift to deliver.

O lords of healing! We have heard of your deeds. The stories are told and retold—how ye saved this man, how ye succored that woman. Come now to us as ye have come to our ancestors! Look upon us with favor.

We make our offerings as the dawn doth break. We kindle the fire and speak your names. Accept our prayer, O Aśvins! Be our protectors as ye travel through the sky. And should we ever fall into peril, should sickness strike us down, should we cry out in need—O swift and gentle ones, remember us. Come to our aid as ye have come to so many before. Thus do we praise the Aśvins, the healers of the dawn.