Harness the steeds, O Uṣas! Let thy golden chariot be prepared! The shafts are smooth; the axles are bright; the wheels do gleam like burnished silver. Thou who art the charioteer most swift, come forth and begin thy journey across the heavens!

The horses are eager; they paw the ground with their hooves. They sense thy coming; their nostrils flare; their eyes roll with excitement. They know that when thou dost mount thy car, they shall dash forth across the vault of heaven like lightning across a storm-darkened sky.

Up, then! Let the reins be taut! Let the chariot wheels begin their rolling! The path before thee is wide and clear—the path that stretcheth from the eastern mountains to the western sea. No obstacle doth bar thy way; no enemy doth stand against thee.

As thou ridest, the world is transformed. Where thy shadow fell, darkness reigned. But where thy wheels roll, light spreadeth forth. The grass becomes green; the flowers open their petals; the whole earth shineth as with precious gems.

The horses never tire. Though they have journeyed from the east since the beginning of all time, still their vigor is undiminished. They know that when the sun shall set, they shall rest for a time, but that when the dark hours have passed, they shall again be called forth.

So too with thee, O Uṣas. Thou art the ever-traveling maiden, the wanderer who knoweth no rest. Thy journey is long; thy path is endless; yet thou art never weary. How is this possible? How can one so ancient still possess such youthful energy?

We stand below, looking upward, and we marvel at the sight of thy chariot racing across the heavens. The rays stream down upon us like arrows of fire. The warmth entreth into our bones; the light doth fill our eyes. We are warmed and we are comforted by thy passage.