Whither driveth your chariot, and who, among men, doth tend the gleaming one, guiding it well upon its path?

That chariot which stirreth in the morning's hush, ranging o’er kindreds, moving with each dawn— who by wit and toil upholdeth its course?

Where at eventide, where in the light of dawn, do the Aśvins take their meat?
Where passed they the dark hours?
Who draweth you unto rest, as a widow doth her husband’s brother, or as a maiden stealeth to her tryst with a gallant youth?

Ye rise with the early light, like an aged couple in need, yet at every dawn ye come, worthy of the rite, unto the house.

For whom do ye vanish from sight?
Or to whose soma-pressings do ye descend like princes to their prize?

As hunters seek the steps of wild elephants, so do we call you at dusk and daybreak, bringing forth our offering.

Ye bring heart's ease to the one who poureth in the rightful manner— ye high-born, ye lords of beauty.

And Ghoṣā, the king’s daughter, moved round about you, crying:
“I ask this of you, O men divine:
Will ye be with me by day, and with me by night?
Will ye strive on my behalf, as for the prize of steeds and chariot?”

Round your shining car ye twain, O poets, keep circle.
Ye come to the houses of singers, as once came Kutsa unto the sage.
The bee doth bear your honey close upon her lips, even as a maiden keepeth silent her tryst.

Ye came to Bhujyu, ye to Vaśa, ye to Śiñjāra, and unto Uśanā.
Though the foe may shun your fellowship, yet I delight in your grace and the aid ye give.

Ye opened the way wide for Kr̥śa and for Śayu, for the widow and the worshipful.

Ye broke the thundering fence with its seven mouths, and brought gain to the seeker.

The maiden is born, and the young boy taketh flight; and when the green shoots rise by your wonder-working, the rivers run down to him as into a vale— she is with him by day and by night: behold, this is wedlock!

They mourn among the living, they make exchange at the rite.
Long have the men devised this bond.
A treasure it is unto the fathers, this joining they have wrought— a joy to husbands, to embrace their wives.

This we know not—declare it, we pray:
how doth the youth lie still within the womb of the maiden?
Might we go to the house of the fruitful bull, whose heart is bound to the red-hued cow? We long for this, O Aśvins.

Your kindness is come, O Aśvins of the prize-winning mares.
Our yearnings lie heavy and fast in our hearts.
Ye have become the twin herdsmen, the fair-faced lords.
May we draw near the halls of Aryaman whom ye love.

Come ye to the house of Manu, where joy is found— give wealth and valiant sons to the wise-tongued man.

Make a crossing of sweet waters, O lords of beauty.
Break down the post that blocketh our path—the ill will.

Tell us, we pray, where this day, among which clans, do the wondrous Aśvins find their mirth?

Who hath held you near? To what house of seer or sacrificer have ye turned your shining faces?