Hail, ye Divine Twins, the Aśvins! Swift as eagles ye come at the dawn, your golden chariot blazing with light, drawn by white coursers swift as thought itself.

Ye are the healers of the gods, the rescuers of the afflicted, the granter of wealth to those who call upon you with reverent heart and voice.

In days of old did ye heal Cyavana the wise, and he became young again, his limbs renewed, his strength restored, through your divine healing craft.

Ye did pull forth Bhujyu from the depths of the sea, when he was cast down beneath the surging waves, and ye brought him safe to the land of his fathers.

The maiden Sukanyā did ye grant unto her desire, for ye did restore unto Cyavana the vigour of youth that he might become her worthy husband.

Your chariot hath golden wheels, O Aśvins, and the axle shineth like burnished copper. Ye ride across the heavens in the time between night and day, in that most sacred twilight hour.

Ye are the friends of mankind, O Divine Twins, the defenders of the weak and the helpless. Ye hearken unto the cry of those who suffer and bring them relief.

At this our sacrifice we do call upon you—come ye now in your swift-moving car, and receive from us the offerings we have made with careful hands.

The soma is pressed for you, O Aśvins, and the clarified butter burneth upon the altar. The sacred chants are sung, the fire crackles—come ye now!

Ye who are ever young, ever fair, ever clothed in light—ye who alone among the gods do deign to taste of the soma that we mortals have prepared.

Your deeds are marvellous, your kindness is boundless, your power is manifest in every healing and every rescue. All creatures do bless the day of your arising.

O ye who go forth at the break of dawn in your golden chariot drawn by white horses that fly like the wind—grant unto us your favour and your protection.

The maidens do call unto you, O Aśvins, for ye are kind to women and gentle in your dealings. Ye grant them sons, ye grant them happiness, ye grant them the joy of a fruitful life.

The sick and the wounded do cry out unto you, and ye do answer their prayers with gentle hands and healing arts. There is no wound that ye cannot mend, no sickness that ye cannot cure.

We beseech thee, O Divine Twins, be present at our rite. Let thy presence illuminate this sacred fire as thy golden chariot doth illuminate the sky at dawn.

Ye who are the lords of long life and good health, grant unto us the blessing of many years and freedom from the pains that do afflict the body.

The poets sing of your deeds, O Aśvins, and the bards do compose hymns in your honour. Ye are remembered in every age and every land, for your kindness is eternal.

Come ye now, O Divine Twins, and feast upon our offerings. Be present at our sacrifice, and bless us with your favour, that we may live long and prosper under your protection.