With the beams of the sun, with hair of gold, Savitar hath lifted the undying light from the east.
By his bidding doth Pūṣan fare forth—the watchful herdsman, beholding all that liveth.

With eye upon mankind, he sitteth midmost in the heavens, having filled the twain world-halves and the vast between.
He keepeth watch o’er mares—or ladles—turned toward the ghee, turned to all sides, between the beacons east and west.

He is the root of wealth, the gatherer of gain; he beholdeth all shapes by his hidden strengths.
His laws hold sure as do Savitar’s own; and as Indra, he abideth where spoils meet and mingle.

O Soma, the waters, when they beheld Viśvāvasu the Gandharva, withdrew each to their own by the truth that was in them.
Indra made haste and went down following that selfsame truth; he cast his glance round about the sun’s enclosings.

Let Viśvāvasu sing the truth unto us—the skyward Gandharva, the meterman of the airy stretch— Whether we know it true or no, let him rouse our wits and lend his voice to ours.

He found the victor amid the flowing streams, and opened the gates to those penned by stone.
The Gandharva named the deathless ones aloud; and Indra came to learn the might of the fruitful kine.