Hear now the story woven from these ancient verses. With reverence, the devotee calls upon the Ashvins, the divine twin horsemen, beseeching them to listen and to instruct as fathers would their son, so that his understanding may not falter among people, and that all hostile curses be warded away. The Ashvins, famed for their swift chariot, have brought delight to Shundhyu, carried away Purumitra’s wife, responded to Vadhrimatī’s call, and granted Purandhi an easy childbirth. Their miracles are many: they restored the youth of a sage grown old, made Khela young again, guided Vandana safely across the river, and made Viśpalā fit for racing once more. When Rebha was hidden in a cave and near death, the Ashvins raised him up; they also restored the Ribhus and the three who were heated, granting life for the seven Vadhris. To Pedu, they gifted a white horse of ninefold strength, along with ninety steeds; they granted him a swift companion who drives away foes, bestowing desirable offerings as Bhaga does for men. No king, no evil, no misfortune, nor any fear can harm the one whom the Ashvins, gracious and of Rudra’s path, lead forward with his wife. The Ashvins are summoned to come with their chariot, swifter than thought, crafted by the Ribhus. At its yoking, the daughter of the sky is born, and the bright days of Vivasvat are renewed. With their victorious path, they cross mountains, cause cows to yield milk for those in need, and even rescue from the jaws of the wolf with their powers. The praise composed for the Ashvins is likened to the Bhṛgus crafting a chariot, and the woman yoked as a maiden to a youth, as one always supports a son. The question arises: Who welcomes their radiant chariot as they bring good fortune? Who, at dawn, receives these all-pervading ones who bring gifts from house to house, bearing blessings with thought? Where is their dawn, where is their dwelling, where do they turn their faces? Who invites them to her seat, as a widow her brother-in-law, or a maiden a youth? At dawn, like an old woman trembling, they drive from house to house, honored with offerings. Whose guests do they become, like princes, whose libations do they attend? Like wild animals, the Ashvins are called at dawn with offerings; as priests, they are invoked by men, bearing offerings for the people, lords of beauty. Ghoṣā, the daughter of the king, once invoked them: “Be present for me by day, be present for blessing, for the horseman, the charioteer, the able one.” Wise are the Ashvins, driving their chariot around like Kutsa the singer among the people. Their honey-sweet gifts are sought after, like a woman seeks her adornment. They rescued Bhujyu and Vaśa, brought Śiñjāra and Uśanā up; their two neighing horses are bound in friendship, and the devotee seeks their gracious favor. They delivered Kṛśa and Śayu, set free Vidhanta and the widow, released the lowing one from her companions, and opened the seven-mouthed pen. A maiden was born, her garment falling; the plants grew up following her teeth; for her, rivers flow as in a hollow, and the day becomes her falling. People weep for the living, scatter at the sacrifice, and strive along a long course. Those who agree upon this with their fathers, the wives embrace their husbands with joy. The devotee asks: “We do not know—tell us truly—whether the youth dwells in the wombs of the young woman; may we, Ashvins, enter the house of the beloved, splendid, virile one, the seed-giver—that we desire.” Gracious favor came to the Ashvins, bestowers of horses; desires entered hearts. They are guardians, splendid lords of couples, dear to Aryaman—may we reach the secure place. O delighting ones, bring wealth with strong sons to the house of man for praise; make a ford easy to cross, a firm standing place on the path, destroy ill-intent. Where today, in which lands, do the wondrous Ashvins delight? Who has invited them, to whose house have they gone—of the inspired one or the sacrificing host? At dawn, the hymn-loving, much-invoked Ashvins are called, their three-wheeled chariot swift at the pressings, circling at the assembly, with beautiful praises. The Nāsatyas yoke at dawn and mount the honey-bearing chariot, going among worshipping peoples, even to sacrifices rich in offerings. Whether it is the priest with honeyed hands, the fire-kindler, skilled and devout, or the inspired one whose pressings they attend, the Ashvins are invited to drink the honeyed draught. Now, the singer turns to Indra: Like a craftsman sharpening a tool, he brings forth a fitting hymn. With speech, the noble utters the word, directing the singer’s praise to Soma for Indra. With milking, the cow is sought, the friend awakened, the aged Indra roused; like a vessel filled with wealth, ready to be poured, the hero is stirred for the gift of riches. The question is posed: What do people call Indra—enjoyer? But he is not to be enjoyed. The prayer is for Indra to bring the portion of wealth, the share desired. People call upon Indra in their true gatherings, standing together; whoever is offering makes Indra a yoke-mate, desiring friendship with the one who pours not Soma. He who eagerly offers Indra strong Soma receives abundant wealth; Indra strikes down enemies and rivals in the morning, slaying Vṛtra with his own weapon. In Indra, praise is placed; he has shown favor, and the wish is for him to fulfill desires. Even from afar, may the enemy fear him, and may all glories bow before him. Indra is asked to drive the enemy far away, as he has done before; to grant barley and cattle, bestow wisdom and prize-winning strength upon the singer. The strong, abundant, and potent Somās have come to Indra; Maghavan does not restrain his generosity, but carries much wealth to the one who presses the Soma. The swift and radiant one prevails, searching out what is done at the proper time; he who desires the gods does not withhold wealth, and the self-sustaining one releases prosperity to the friend. With cows, barley, and all kinds of food, the wish is to conquer distant enemies. May the leaders win the foremost riches by their own striving. May Bṛhaspati protect from behind, above, and below, from harm; may Indra protect in front and in the middle, granting passage to his friends. All thoughts, radiant and harmonious, approach Indra, knowing the light; they embrace him as people embrace their lord, as a noble youth, Maghavan, for help. The singer’s mind does not turn away from Indra; in him alone, desire is placed. Indra is invited to sit upon the sacred grass, to drink the Soma. Indra, who increases abundance and removes hunger, is lord of wealth; for him, in the channel, seven rivers grow strong, nourished by the might of the bull. Thus, the story of the Ashvins and Indra unfolds, their blessings sought, their deeds praised, their protection invoked, and their gifts celebrated in the dawn of devotion.