A sacred skill has arisen among us, and with it, the call goes out to adorn the mighty chariot and let the wise rejoice. The divine helpers—those inspirers of thought and givers of wealth, sons of heaven with pure vows and good deeds—are invoked to come forth. These divine helpers, the Aśvins, are most like Indra and the Maruts: wondrous, powerful, and the best of charioteers. They bear a chariot brimming with honey, and with this sweet abundance, they speed to the worshipper who calls to them. The poet, filled with wonder, asks the Aśvins what they seek here, what purpose brings them among mortals. Whomever they choose to honor on this day, let them cross over to him, heal the fallen, restore life, and bring light to the sage so that his words may shine. The Aśvins are called upon to drive away the howling, greedy wolf and to strike down foes at the contest. May they make each singer’s speech rich in gifts, and, as Nāsatyas, grant both praise and protection. The story recalls how the Aśvins made a boat among the rivers—self-moving and winged—for the son of Tugra. With their divine mind, they carried him swiftly over the mighty floods. Tugra’s son, cast down into the waters and darkness, in a place without support, was guided by four boats, favored by the unborn child and steered by the Aśvins, who carried him safely across. When he sought refuge, he embraced a tree standing firm in the midst of the waters, and the Aśvins, like branches of a falling leaf, bore him for hearing and deliverance. The poet prays that the help of the Nāsatyas, the Aśvins, may always be near, as their measure decrees. From the sacred seat of Soma, he wishes to know his people—long-lived and flourishing. The Aśvins are called to harness their swift, three-yoked, three-wheeled chariot, which flies faster than the mind, and come to the home of the well-doer, speeding like winged birds. When their chariot stands at the navel of the earth and they follow the path of power, the poet’s beautiful song seeks to join them, calling also to the daughters of heaven and the dawns for union. The Aśvins are urged to stand upon their well-fitted chariot, full of offerings and moving according to their vows, seeking the path for offspring and self. May no wolf or she-wolf assail them, nor may they be diverted or harmed. The singer sets apart for them this share, this song, along with treasures of honey. The Aśvins, whom Gotama and Atri called upon with offerings, are entreated to come straight to the poet’s invocation, as a guide leads to the goal. The poet declares that he and his people have crossed beyond the farthest darkness, and this praise is offered to the Aśvins. He asks them to come by the paths of the gods so that he may know his people—long-lived and flourishing. The poet continues his invocation, calling the Aśvins today and always, just as the fire is kindled at dawn with hymns. Wherever they may be, sons of heaven and bestowers of gifts, let them hear. May they gladden the people, driving away the greedy and those who delight in the wave, and may they listen with understanding. For the sake of beauty, Pūṣan, as a craftsman for the gods, is asked to bear the chariot of Sūryā for the Nāsatyas. Their praises are born in the waters, and their yokes, like Varuṇa’s fetters, are well-joined. The poet prays that their sweet favor may remain with the people, and that they accept the hymn of praise from the worthy singer. As the fame of the Aśvins spreads, the peoples rejoice in their heroic strength. A special hymn has been composed for the Aśvins with honor and splendid praise. They are invited to come along the path, for the sake of the son and of the self, and to take delight in Agastya’s words. Again, the poet declares that he and his people have crossed beyond darkness, and this hymn is set forth for the Aśvins. He asks them to come by the divine ways, so that the people may be found long-living and vigorous. Now, the poet turns his mind to the mysteries of day and night, pondering which is earlier and which is later. He wonders what the wise say about their birth, for who truly knows? Both, bearing all things in their being, move apart, and day and night revolve like a wheel. Two, moving together, traverse much; the one with feet carries the one without, bearing the embryo. Like a son always in the lap of his parents, may Heaven and Earth protect us from harm. The poet calls for the gift of Aditi—free from distress, shining with light, and worthy of praise. May Heaven and Earth bring this forth for the singer and protect all from harm. When they are heated and endowed with strength, the poet and his people wish to follow the twin children of the gods, and with both days, may Heaven and Earth grant protection. The two young women—sisters and wives—meet in the lap of their parents, smelling the navel of the world. May Heaven and Earth protect from harm. Wide and vast, great in their abode, upholding the law, the mothers of the gods are invoked for help. They who bear the immortal, of beautiful aspect, are called upon for protection. With reverence, the poet calls upon wide, broad, far-reaching Earth and Heaven in this sacrifice. They who bring good fortune and excellent support are asked to protect from harm. If any offense has been committed—against a friend, companion, or lord—the poet prays to the gods for forgiveness, and asks Heaven and Earth for protection. He prays for both noble blessings and strengths to come and support him with their help, so that even in the presence of many enemies, the generous gods may delight and grant prosperity. The truth is declared for sky and earth, for the hearing of the wise, and the poet asks that father and mother protect from guilt and evil. He prays that his words to Heaven and Earth, as father and mother, be true, and that they be the nearest helpers of the gods, so that the people may be found long-living and vigorous. The all-knowing god Savitar is invoked to come with blessings to the assembly, accompanied by the goddesses of plenty. As young men gather, may all the world unite for protection through Savitar’s wisdom. All the gods—Mitra, Aryaman, Varuna, and the united mighty ones—are called from every side to grant strength, like a powerful band. Agni is praised as the most welcome guest, together with the Turvani, and Varuna is asked to grant good repute, while the radiant sun is entreated to carry all beyond hatred and want. Ushas and Night are approached with reverence, seeking victory, like a cow full of milk; their dual forms hold the milk in the vessel as the hymn is measured on the same day. Ahibudhnya, the bringer of happiness, is called to lead as a nourishing mother leads her child, and the river is asked to carry the people safely, bearing them across the offspring of the waters, whom the swift and mighty ones bear. Tvashtar is invoked to come with the wise, united in purpose, and Indra, slayer of Vritra and most powerful among men, is asked to join with the people. The poet’s thoughts, yoked with horses, approach the gods as cows lick their young calf; to the most fragrant among men, voices sing as wives to a husband. The Maruts, with their ancient host, are called to be of one mind with the people, like chariots drawn by dappled horses, like gods united in friendship, to be protectors. When the greatness of these divine hosts shines forth, they set out, splendid and well-yoked. On a good day, their armies sweep away all obstacles, like a sharp weapon, clearing the path for those who call upon them in reverence and hope.