O Ashvins, divine twin horsemen, you once bestowed upon Pedu a white, swift horse, guided by Indra’s wisdom—a noble steed named Johutra, famed for his victories and prowess, who brought home a thousand prizes and triumphed in every contest. We, too, call upon you, Ashvins, born of noble lineage, with unwavering devotion. Come to us on your chariot that brings wealth; accept our hymns so that prosperity may grace our lives. Come together, O Nasatyas, with the fresh speed of your falcon. At every offering, especially as dawn breaks, you are invoked without fail, O Ashvins, our constant companions at the sacred rites. I summon your wondrous chariot, swift as thought, drawn by mighty steeds and worthy of sacrifice. It is a chariot of life, with a thousand reins, bearing the riches of the forests and treasures by the hundreds. Attentive to our praise, you open wide pathways for us. Our prayers, inspired and far-reaching, rise upright to you from every direction. The offerings, sweet and warm, are brought forth for you, O Ashvins, as your powerful chariot ascends, filled with nourishment. When rivals gather for contests and splendid festivals, when mighty sons join in battle, your chariot, Ashvins, is seen arriving, carrying the generous giver to the highest reward. You have rescued many in distress: you carried Bhujyu, who was perishing, away from his father’s house with your own teams; you cleared a path for Divodāsa, and your great favor was made manifest. For your wondrous power, O Ashvins, the singer has yoked your youthful chariot for your glory. The maiden, longing for friendship, chose you both as her protectors, seeking your shelter. You saved Rebha from the flood, brought warmth to one chilled by frost, revived the lowing cow with strength, and lengthened the worshipper’s life. You restored Vandana from decay, as skilled craftsmen repair a chariot; you brought prosperity to the inspired sage, and your favor became a sharp weapon for the devout. You went to the one weeping in a distant land, bound by his own father’s command; your splendid aid, Ashvins, became evident to the earnest seeker. Even your honey-sweet bee, the Soma-drinker, calls you with the prayer of Ushij. You drew forth Dadhichi’s mind, and his head spoke to you with the voice of a horse. You, Ashvins, grant abundant favor to Pedu, the white-horsed, victorious in contests; in battles, you make the difficult easy with your weapons, supporting the people like Indra himself. Who, O Ashvins, can win your favor through sacrifice? Who can truly delight you both? How can the unknowing arrange your worship? The wise man seeks to know, while the unwise asks in ignorance; even among mortals, there is doubt. But we, with understanding, call upon you both; may you, in your wisdom, hear our song today, for the eager youth approaches you. I ask you, wondrous ones, as a devotee asks the gods about the marvel of sacrifice: may you, mighty and helpful ones, protect us. That which shines in the sound of the Bhrigu, by which the singer praises you with his voice, is sent forth by the messenger who does not yet understand. I have heard the song of Takavāna, O Ashvins, and it fills me with joy; your eyes are truly lords of beauty. You are the guardians of great wealth, ever present; may you be our good protectors, shielding us from wolves and all evil. Do not let any enemy take what is ours; do not let our cattle wander from our homes. May our cows, full-uddered, remain with us always. For the friendship of Mitra and your favor, O youthful ones, grant us wealth strong and abundant; measure out for us riches filled with nourishment. Your chariot, O Ashvins, yoked without horses and full of vigor, has often brought me joy. This is the assembly; may you, Ashvins, grant us long life and strength. Among the people, your chariot that brings the Soma-drink is easy to ride. In the weariness of sleep and in the enjoyment of prosperity, may you, radiant ones, protect us both. Now, turning to Indra, the swift and mighty one: when will you hear the prayers of the devoted, the songs of the Angirases? When, at the sacrifice, do you stride into the house of the generous? Indra propped up the sky and established the earth’s support. For the sake of reward, he gave men wealth from the cow. Like a buffalo following its kin, he beheld the herds and measured the mothers of the horse and the cow. He never abandoned the ancient law nor the red ones, the first rulers. Swift as thought, he followed the Angirases and the days. He fashioned the thunderbolt and the host, and he propped up the sky for all creatures. By his exhilaration, O righteous one, grant us the heavenly abundance of cows. When the triple peak turned aside at the beginning, keep far from us the malice of men. To you belongs the milk drawn by the two parents, O bountiful, swift, and generous one. Pure is the offering they bring you—the milk from the ever-yielding cow. Then was born the swift one, shining forth like the sun at dawn. O Indra, with those fit for sacrifice, pour out the Soma with ladles and streams for the dwelling. When, in the forest, the blazing sun encircled the enclosure of the cow at the sacrifice, you, O man, shone forth with deeds for cattle and strength, following the days. Eight bay steeds from the great heaven, shining, have come to the contest at the fountain. They milked your exhilarating draught for the cow’s increase, for the calf, to be mixed with the stones. You turned back the iron one, the path of the cow, the stone brought from heaven by the skillful. For Kutsa, you subdued Shushna with endless weapons, circling with slayings. In ancient times, when the sun had passed beyond darkness, O stone-splitter, you broke the cloud, the enemy’s missile. Even what was hidden of Shushna’s strength, you struck down, well-bound above the sky. After you, O mighty Indra, the great powers moved; heaven and earth rejoiced at your deeds. With your great thunderbolt, you struck down Vritra lying in the channels and shattered the stronghold. You are the leader and helper of men, the best charioteer of the wind. The wise Kavi, Ushanas, fashioned for you the exhilarating, protective thunderbolt for the slaying of Vritra. With your bay steeds, O sun, you bring forth men. You turn the wheel, O Indra, the driver. You carried across ninety ships and turned back those who were unoffered and unyoked. O Indra, protect us from hardship and peril, O thunderbolt-wielder. Lead us to strength, to chariot-fame, to the awakening of horses; grant us glory and fair praise. May your favor never depart from us, O generous one. May the seekers find the prize. Grant us, O Maghavan, wealth in cattle, and may we be among those who share the grandest feast with you.