Men praised at the sky’s edge the bright Ashvins, invoking them with the rays: she who at once brings the dawn, pouring life-breaths, surrounded the precious bounty.

I praise the two leaders of heaven, the presiders over this world; I invoke the Aśvins, glorifying them with sacred hymns, them, who are ever the discomfiture (of foes), who at dawn scatter the investing glooms to the ends of the earth.

I LAUD the Heroes Twain, this heaven's Controllers: singing with songs of praise I call the Asvins, Fain in a moment, when the morns are breaking, to part the earth's ends and the spacious regions.