O Aśvins, ye twin lords of healing and swift deliverance, hear us! Ye who ride across the heavens in your golden chariot, ye who bring relief to the afflicted and strength to the weary — we praise you.

Come unto us with swift hands and swift minds. Ye are the physicians of the gods, the healers of all ills. With you comes the remedy for every sickness, the balm for every wound. Ye have restored sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, and life itself to the dying. The lame have walked again beneath your blessing; the withered have grown strong.

We call upon you in our need. When sorrow grips the heart and pain afflicts the body, we invoke your holy names. Ye have power over all suffering, all distress. Your compassion knows no bounds. Even as the night gives way to the dawn, so do you bring relief where darkness reigned.

Ye have been the saviors of mortals in their peril. When the great waters rose and threatened to overwhelm, you brought safe passage. When enemies gathered in their multitudes, you granted victory to the righteous. In every moment of extremity, you have stood as our protectors.

Noble horsemen! Swift riders of the sky! Come now and bless this sacrifice. Accept our hymn of praise and let your favor descend upon us. Grant us long life, grant us health, grant us victory over all adversaries. May your chariot ever be swift to our aid.