Come hither, ye divine twins! O Aśvins, ye horsemen of the dawn, ye healers and rescuers! Swift as the thought that flashes through the mind, swift as the eagle in his flight, ye traverse the sky from the eastern realm to the western.

Ye are the saviors of those in peril! The man who falleth into the pit crieth out, and ye are there. The woman in travail calleth, and ye answer. The blind man stumbles in darkness, and ye restore his sight. The leper crieth out, and ye make him whole. No misery escapeth your notice; no cry for help goeth unheard.

Ye are youthful and beautiful, your forms shining like polished gold. Your chariot is drawn by horses swifter than the wind. As you ride across the sky, the night giveth way before you, and the dawn breaketh in splendor. The birds sing at your approach; the flowers open their petals; all the world rejoiceth in your coming.

Yet ye are not distant gods dwelling in unreachable heights. Nay, ye are near to thy servants, intimate and caring. Ye know our sorrows; ye understand our needs. When we call, ye listen. When we suffer, ye compassion floweth forth like water from a spring.

Therefore we hymn your praises, O twin gods! Accept our worship and our gratitude. Ye who bringest light to the darkness and healing to the wounded—stay ever near us in our travail. Ride swiftly to our aid when we cry out. Let thy compassion be our strength; let thy presence be our salvation.