May heaven and earth, the youthful and close mothers of truth, bring their blessings upon us. If any harm has touched you, let heaven, earth, and the ground itself carry it away, so that none remains. Medicines, moving twice and thrice through the sky, and one upon the earth, work their healing power; if any harm persists, may heaven, earth, and the ground remove it completely. Indra, guide the cow and the draught animal who brought the chariot of the Ushinaras. Should any harm linger, let heaven, earth, and the ground cleanse it, leaving you unharmed. We have come, bearing reverence, to the assembly of the mighty, to those praised among the great. We seek the true lord of the chariot, shining and powerful, unopposed in his strength. He, endowed with purity, surpasses others like a buffalo; even when armed, his purity remains. By his ordinance, Ikṣvāku prospers with joy, and five tribes flourish for the sake of longevity, as in heaven. O Indra, uphold sovereignty in assemblies and upon the chariot’s seat, shining visibly like the sun in the sky. You yoke the red steeds of Agastya to the waters; you have overcome the Paṇis, O king, crossing all the hostile ones. Now, this one returns to his mother, another to his father, another to the living; this is your movement, O Subandhu—go forth, come out. Just as the yoke is bound with three straps for support, so I fasten your mind for life, not for death, but for unharmed continuance. As the great earth holds the trees, so I fasten your mind for life, not for death, but for unharmed continuance. What mind I have taken from Yama, from Vaivasvata, from Subandhu, I restore for life, not for death, but for unharmed continuance. The wind blows downward, the sun sets downward, the cow yields downward—so may your illness descend downward. This hand of mine is divine, more divine still; it is all-healing, auspicious to the touch. Listen now to the fierce, praised speech, the sacred utterance with will and power between the two kings. When his generous parents protected him, he struck down the seven priests at the altar. For both giving and conquering, striving with strength, he measured out the altar with sacrifices. Eager, uttering the praised speech, he poured forth the seed like a stream, as the pressing stone pours. In their offerings, the mind excels with skill and swiftness; the mighty one stretches out his two arms with arrows, as if to the directions. When the dark ones sat among the cows, I called to the Aśvins, offspring of heaven: come to my sacrifice, come to my food, you who are eager, do not forget me, O leaders. Firm is his heroic deed, well-performed, which men have not cast aside. Again, what was carried by the slender daughter is raised up—the support of the bearer. When the act in the middle was done in secret, desiring the father in the young woman, the two minds, at the beginning, parted, and the well-made seed was placed in the womb. When the father shed his seed upon his own daughter, desiring her, the gods, self-born, created sacred speech, and fashioned the Lord of the House, the guardian of the vow. Like a bull, he cast forth foam in the contest; the others, of little understanding, went far away. Like a gift, the right hand turned aside, but the spotted one has taken hold of me. Swift as fire at birth, the upabdi approaches, sitting naked beside the kindled Agni; he seeks fuel and strength, the supporter, born ever younger with might. Swiftly the Navagvas, speaking truth, came to the friendship of Kanāyā, joined with truth. Those of double shelter, who came to the herdsman, generous and unwavering, desired to milk. Swiftly to the friendship of Kanāyā, newer than before, like a gift, truth flows forth, crossing over. Pure is the line by which they approached you, for the ever-yielding cow, the bright one, gave her milk. When the cattle, separated, are recognized from behind, so the singer rejoices; the sons of Vasus, seeking wealth, ever active, discern all treasures, drawing them near. Then, indeed, many gathered around him, desiring the unaging prize; they found the secret of the many-born, the hidden bond of Śuṣṇa, not to be broken. That is the radiance whose name the gods possess, and the sunlight, who sit in the triple realm. Agni is his name, Jātavedas; hear us, O Hotar, true priest, faithful to truth. Those two, with fierce, shining rays—O Aśvins, O Indra—may you be worshipped for praise. Rejoicing among men on the strewn grass, delighting in the well-offered libations, you are worthy of sacrifice among the tribes. This praised king, wise and singing, crosses over the waters, his own boundary; shaking the fire with branches, like a wheel’s rim, he stirs the swift-moving, restless one. The two-boundary Vaitaraṇa, the worshipper, would milk the ever-yielding cow and the horse. When Mitra and Varuṇa join together with hymns, Aryaman with the eldest guardians. That kinsman, the sage, has placed your thought in heaven, the closest navel, the singer proclaims. May that navel be ours, whether far or near—may I, even afterwards, attain to it in some way. This is my navel, here is my seat; these are my gods, I am all this. The twice-born, the first-born of truth, this cow, newly calved, has yielded her milk. Then the gentle, restless, shining one will be—the two-turning, eager for praise. When the upright line, like a child, is born, the mother sets forth the firm, ever-growing offspring. The cows followed the guidance of Kanāyā, after the barking of some dog. Hear us, O you of rich gifts, you who prosper with the praises of the horse-slayer, with true words. So, O Indra, strike for us, mighty king, strong-armed, for great wealth. Protect us, O generous one, guard our heroes; without fail, O Hariva, in your favor. When the kings strive for the cow, Saraṇyu runs for the poet, Jaraṇyu. The inspired, most beloved, has become theirs, and he will go forth, or he will cross over with them. In the fullness of this noble one, we call out, though vainly, with loud voices. Saraṇyu is his son, the horse, and you are the sage, famed for glory. If for your friendship, for your band, we have offered praise with reverence, in whom all voices, harmonious, gather, as in the past, for the giver, for the winning of true speech.