Hear now the thunder of the hooves! Dadhikrā, the divine steed, cometh forth in all his terrible majesty. No horse of mortal lineage is he, but a god incarnate in equine form, swift beyond the racing clouds, mighty as the storm wind itself. His nostrils flare with the breath of eternity; his eyes burn with the fire of conquest.

Dadhikrā the golden, Dadhikrā the unconquerable! When he taketh the field, the very earth trembleth beneath his weight. His mane floweth like the waves of the cosmic ocean; his tail streaketh the sky like the fall of meteorite and fire. No chariot horse is he — he is war itself made manifest, the fury of battle given legs and sinew.

The warrior who rideth upon Dadhikrā shall know no defeat. The enemy's arrows cannot pierce his flanks; the sorcerer's curse cannot touch his sacred hide. He hath been blessed by Indra himself, anointed by the Adityas, praised by every god in heaven. His lineage ascendeth back to the very fountains of creation, where the sky-god first fashioned the perfect horse.

When the chariots clash and the battle doth rage, Dadhikrā's presence turneth the tide. He carrieth his rider swiftly through the press of foes, leapeth over pits and obstacles that would trap lesser beasts, and cometh not to weariness even when the day is long and bitter. His strength is as the strength of a hundred horses; his courage as the courage of all warriors combined.

O Dadhikrā, we sing thy praises! Come now and be near to those who invoke thy name with righteous intent. Grant us thy speed in pursuit of our foes, thy wisdom in the chaos of battle, thy unstoppable force when the moment of victory draweth near. Let thy hooves thunder upon the plain, and let thy riders be as undefeatable as thee.