In the sky your hymn, O Ashvins, like horses' laud, has come forth; sweet to the son, it is dear in heaven to men, like the shining Cow.

Aśvins, your praise is filled with plural nty as a well (with water) in time of rain; hasten here; it is especiallydear to the Soma when it is effused in the brilliant (offering); drink, leaders (of rites), as two Gauras (drink), at apool.

To Indra sing a Sama hymn, a lofty song to Lofty Sage, To him who guards the Law, inspired, and fain for praise.