Therefore the thousand‑nerved chariot of the Ashvins came; their calves of praise uplifted your honeyed speech — the poet was inspired.

From wheresoever (you may be) come, Aśvins, with your thousandfold diversified chariot; the sageVatsa, the son of Kavi, has addressed you with sweet worlds.

Come thence, O Asvins, on your car that hath a thousand ornaments: Vatsa the sage, the sage's son, hath sung a song of sweets to you.