All hail to Sūrya, the Sun! Behold his golden chariot drawn by swift steeds across the vault of heaven. Seven horses bear him, or horses of every color, or golden-maned steeds that gleam brighter than polished bronze. He rideth high, visible to all the world.

Thou art the all-seeing eye, O Sūrya! Nothing escapeth thy gaze. Not the deeds done in secret chambers, not the cruelty hidden in the heart, not the sin whispered in darkness. Thy eye pierceth all shadows. Thy light revealeth all things. From thy station in the sky, thou dost behold the entire world—mountains and valleys, cities and deserts, all the works of men and gods.

By thy light do we live and labor. Thou dost ripen the grain in the fields. Thou dost warm the waters. Thou dost give vigor to all creatures. The cow giveth milk because of thy heat. The tree beareth fruit beneath thy rays. All life springeth from thy bounty.

Yet we know also thy terrible power. The drought cometh when thou dost withhold thy rays. The land becometh barren; the cattle die; the children weep with thirst. But thou art merciful—thou returnest again, and the world is made whole. The rains fall, the grass groweth green, life doth flourish anew.

Thou art the keeper of time itself, O Sūrya! The day is thy domain; the night belongeth to the moon. Thou markest the seasons; thou numbest the years. By thee do we know when to plant and when to reap, when to journey and when to stay.

We make our offering unto thee, O sun-god! Accept the smoke of our sacrifice! Let thy rays fall gently upon our fields. Grant us health and strength. Guard us from sickness. Keep us beneath thy benevolent eye. Thus do we praise thee, O Sūrya, charioteer of heaven, eye of the world, sustainer of all life.