Hark! Do ye hear the rumble of their chariot wheels? The Aśvins approach in their golden car, drawn by horses whose hooves strike fire from the heavens. The dawn breaketh before them; the night fleeth away like a frightened animal. All creation stirreth at their coming.

Their horses are not as the horses of men. These are celestial steeds, born of the ocean, fed on the ambrosia of heaven. Their manes flow like rivers of light; their eyes shine with divine intelligence. Fleet as thought they move, swift as the falcon's swoop, faster than the arrow from the bow.

The chariot itself is wrought from substances unknown to mortal smiths. The wheels turn without effort; the axles sing like harps. Gold and silver gleam in the light of the breaking dawn. The poles are carved with intricate designs that speak of cosmic mysteries. All the powers of heaven are contained within that wondrous vehicle.

As they ride, the earth trembleth beneath the wheels; the heavens resound with their passage. The clouds part before them; the stars dim at their approach. Yet when they descend to aid mortals in their distress, they come with gentleness and kindness, their terrible power restrained by infinite compassion.

O swift ones! O celestial horsemen! Ride swiftly to those who suffer! Let thy chariot bring succor to the afflicted. Thy speed is without measure; thy power is beyond comprehension. Yet to those who call upon thee in earnest prayer, thou comest as a friend and a savior. Blessed be thy coming; blessed be thy aid. Eternal glory to the Aśvins!