Make also this Atri, grown grey in truth, new again— as a steed rouseth to run his course.

Even as ye renewed Kakṣīvant, like a chariot made ready, so quicken him once more.

Unbind him too, as a race-winning horse is loosed, to whom the dustless paths do open wide; unbind the youngest Atri, knotted and still, that he may stretch across the airy bounds.

Ye two most wondrous, bright as the dawn, seek wisdom for Atri's sake— for then, O lords of the heights, your song of praise need not be hewn and shared with others.

O ye richly giving Aśvins, your kindness is known in this— that ye bring us safely to the broad seat, the hallowed hall of feast and rite, O shining ones.

Bhujyu, flung and cast upon the sea at the furthest edge of the sky-bound deep— ye hastened unto him with your wingéd steeds.

O Nāsatyas, grant us vision to prevail.

O lavish lords of every gift, draw near to us with favor, as father and mother seek their child's good.

Tend ye the draughts that rise and swell like a spring, O bright ones, be nigh.