In the vastness of creation, Varuṇa and Mitra, the great upholders of cosmic law, preside over three realms, three heavens, and three wide spaces. Their vigilance is unceasing; ever-growing, they protect the unbroken order, the rita, that sustains the universe. The cows, rich in nourishing milk, belong to Varuṇa, while the honeyed rivers flow for Mitra. Among their three radiant thrones stand three mighty bulls, shining and potent, bearing the seeds of life. At dawn, the devotee invokes the gracious Aditi, mother of the gods, and at midday, as the sun ascends, he calls upon Mitra and Varuṇa, seeking their blessings for prosperity, for wealth, and for the well-being of his children and descendants. These divine Ādityas support the shining realms of heaven and earth, their laws unshaken even by the immortal gods. Mitra and Varuṇa, the wise, uphold the firm order that guides all beings. Knowing their abundant help, the devotee seeks their favor, praying that, by truthfulness, he may earn their protection and become as their Rudras—guarded by their power. He pleads for safety, that with their saving help, he may overcome all adversaries by his own strength. He asks that he and his kin not be overcome by any harmful influence, neither by remnants nor by wasting away. With heartfelt praise, the devotee calls Varuṇa and Mitra to his sacrifice, inviting them to approach and delight in the offerings. As wise rulers of all, they are asked to grant fullness of understanding. The sacred Soma, pressed and prepared, awaits them, that they might partake of the divine draught. As Atri once did, the hymns are offered to Mitra and Varuṇa; they are invited to sit upon the sacred grass, to drink Soma and accept the sacrifice. By their steadfast vows, they dwell in secure abodes, guiding men and upholding order. May they accept these offerings, and may the sacrifice be pleasing to them. Turning now to the Aśvins, the swift and wondrous twin gods, the devotee calls out: wherever you may be—near or far, in many places, traversing the midspace—come, O enjoyers of much, come with your manifold protections. You, ever-active, bear countless aids; with wondrous steeds you speed through the realms, encircling the yokes of the two Nāhuṣas. Your chariot, adorned with many forms, brings joy to those who call upon you. All that you do by your favor is worthy of praise. Of diverse birth and form, you have become kin to us all. When Sūryā, the radiant maiden, mounts your swift chariot, the red birds circle around you, and the rays of the sun shine forth. Your night is attentive and gentle, and your nourishing warmth is welcomed by all. The sound of your trumpet is renowned, your team victorious in the races. With your protection, Atri has returned, safe and restored. The honeyed, nourishing draught you pour out is sweet, and your crossing of the sea brings strength to all who partake of the cooked foods you bless. Indeed, you are called bringers of joy, your journeys most eagerly invoked and gracious. May these hymns, increasing in strength, bring you auspiciousness, O Aśvins; we speak them with reverence, as chariot-makers of old. Where are you today, O divine Aśvins? Atrī calls to you—may you hear, O mighty givers. Where indeed are you famed ones in heaven? Among which people do you strive, with which rivers do you associate? Whom do you help, whom do you visit, to whom do you yoke your chariot? Whose hymns delight you? May we be those whom you favor. Even the city-dweller, though cast out, you restore to his city; you seize the thief like a lion in his lair. From the aged Cyavāna you drove away infirmity, releasing him from bonds and restoring his youth, fulfilling the desire of his wife. Here stands your singer, seeking vision and glory; come with help, O bestowers of strength. Who among mortals is most generous today, O Aśvins? Who is the sage with inspired speech? Who, through sacrifice, wins wealth and horses? May your foremost chariot come here, for many mortals, longing for you, stand with uplifted hands. May our praise, sweet as honey, be pleasing to you; with clear insight and gifts, come near and grant blessings like a falcon. Whenever you hear this invocation, may your generous hands be full, your bounties abundant. The singer adorns your beloved, strong, wealth-bearing chariot with praise. O Aśvins, may you hear my sweet invocation. Come swiftly, crossing all obstacles, delighting in your golden-wheeled chariot drawn by rivers. Bearing treasures, come to us, O Rudras, bestowers of wealth. Your strong treasures are set in the chariot, in the words placed there; the spotted deer, the gazelle, is a marvel for you. With awakened mind, eager for the chariot, attentive to the call, you bring the fallen Cyavāna to safety. The mind-yoked horses, moist with dew, come to you; let the birds bring you, O Aśvins, for the drink, together with good thoughts. May you hear my sweet invocation. Thus, with reverence and longing, the devotee calls upon Varuṇa, Mitra, and the wondrous Aśvins—guardians of order, bestowers of wealth and health, swift to help those who praise them. May their blessings flow, their protection endure, and their presence be felt in every sacred rite and every heartfelt hymn.