The story begins with the renowned Aśvins, divine twin horsemen whose strong trumpet echoes across the land. Their team is celebrated in the races, and their protective powers are so great that the sage Atrī, once lost, has returned safely under their care. The honey-bearing, nourishing draught poured by the Rudras is sweet, strengthening them as they cross the vast sea, their cooked foods bringing vigor. The Aśvins are called the bringers of joy, their journeys eagerly invoked and graciously bestowed upon those who seek them. Hymns composed with reverence, like chariot-makers crafting their vehicles, are offered to the Aśvins, wishing that these praises, ever increasing, bring auspiciousness. Atrī calls out to the Aśvins from the sky, seeking their attention and blessings. He wonders where these famed Nāsatyas, the divine twins, are today—among which people they strive, with which rivers they associate. He asks whom they help, whom they visit, to whom they yoke their chariot, and whose hymns they delight in, hoping to be among those favored by them. The Aśvins restore even the city-dweller cast out, returning him to his home. Like lions seizing thieves in their lair, they uphold justice. They drove away the infirmity from Cyavāna, the aged sage, releasing him as if from bondage and restoring his youth, fulfilling the desire of his wife. The singer proclaims his devotion, seeking vision and glory from the famed Aśvins and asking for their help and strength. He wonders who among mortals is the most generous, who is the inspired sage with the flow of inspiration, and who wins wealth and horses through sacrifices. He calls for the foremost chariot of the Aśvins, for many stand with uplifted hands, longing for their arrival. May the praise, sweet as honey, please the Aśvins, and may they come near with clear insight and gifts, granting blessings like a falcon. Whenever they hear this invocation, may their generous hands be filled, their bountiful gifts abundant. The singer adorns their beloved, strong, wealth-bearing chariot with praise, hoping the Aśvins hear his sweet invocation. He invites them to come swiftly, crossing all obstacles, delighting with golden wheels drawn by rivers. Bearing treasures, the Aśvins and Rudras accept the invocation, bestowing wealth. Their strong treasures are set in the chariot, placed in the speech offered, and the spotted deer or gazelle creates marvels for them. With awakened mind, eager for the chariot and attentive to the call, the Aśvins bring the fallen Cyavāna to safety. Mind-yoked horses, moist with dew, come to them; birds bring them for the drink, together with good thoughts. The Aśvins, O Nasatyas, are called to come without delay, even across hostile lands, unhindered, turning around obstacles. In this sacrifice, the singer shines with praise, seeking help, for the Aśvins favor those who praise them. Dawn has come, Agni, the bright beast, is kindled as priest, and the immortal yokes their strong-wealthed chariot. Agni shines forth with the dawn, and the inspired words of the priests arise. The Aśvins are called to come with their chariot, bringing the warm drink. No prepared path restrains them; they are invited to come for the drink, turning back towards the worshiper, most gracious ones. They are called at gatherings, at morning, midday, and at the rising of the sun, by day and by night, with help and blessing, for their drink is prepared. Their established place is in the highest heaven, their houses and home among the stars. The Aśvins are called from the great heaven, from the mountain, from the waters, bringing nourishment and strength. With their new favor, full of delight, the singer prays for safe passage, for wealth, heroes, and undying blessings. The first worship in the morning is offered to the two who travel at dawn, before the greedy and angry, letting them drink. The sacrifice is set for the Aśvins in the morning, and poets who have gone before proclaim their greatness. The morning sacrifice is performed, offerings poured; there is no favor for the godless in the evening. Each earlier worshipper is more worthy, and another worships from among us. Their golden-bodied, honey-colored chariot streams with ghee, drawn by horses, moving swiftly as thought and wind, crossing over all misfortunes. He who most often invokes the Nasatyas, dearest at the division of the portion, fills his offspring with blessings, always ascending in brightness and surpassing others. With the new favor and joy-bringing guidance of the Aśvins, the singer prays for wealth, heroes, and undying blessings. The Aśvins, O Nasatyas, are called to come swiftly, like swans flying to the pressed Soma. Like deer, like cows to pasture, like swans, they are invited to the offering. As givers of horses, they are asked to accept the sacrifice for the desired offering, flying like swans to the pressed Soma. When Atrī, fallen into distress, called upon the Aśvins as a woman in labor, they came swift as the falcon, bringing new help and happiness. The singer asks the tree to open its womb for Saptavadhrin, as if for one wishing to give birth, calling upon the Aśvins to release him. For the frightened, fallen sage Saptavadhrin, the Aśvins, by their powers, split and joined the tree. As the wind stirs the lotus pond from all sides, so may the embryo move, and the ten-month child come forth, completing the story of the Aśvins’ wondrous deeds, their swift aid, and their blessings bestowed upon those who call upon them with devotion and praise.