Containing 7 sacred Sanskrit shlokas with multi-author commentaries and translations.
तं वां॒ रथं॑ व॒यम॒द्या हु॑वेम पृथु॒ज्रय॑मश्विना॒ संग॑तिं॒ गोः यः सू॒र्यां वह॑ति वन्धुरा॒युर्गिर्वा॑हसं पुरु॒तमं॑ वसू॒युम्
"WE will invoke this day your car, farspreading, O Aṣvins, even the gathering, of the sunlight,– Car praised in hymns, most ample, rich in treasure, fitted with seats, the car that beareth Sûrya."
यु॒वं श्रिय॑मश्विना दे॒वता॒ तां दिवो॑ नपाता वनथः॒ शची॑भिः यु॒वोर्वपु॑र॒भि पृक्षः॑ सचन्ते॒ वह॑न्ति॒ यत्क॑कु॒हासो॒ रथे॑ वाम्
"Aṣvins, ye gained that glory by your Godhead, ye Sons of Heaven, by your own might and power. Food followeth close upon your bright appearing when stately horses in your chariot draw you."
को वा॑म॒द्या क॑रते रा॒तह॑व्य ऊ॒तये॑ वा सुत॒पेया॑य वा॒र्कैः ऋ॒तस्य॑ वा व॒नुषे॑ पू॒र्व्याय॒ नमो॑ येमा॒नो अ॑श्वि॒ना व॑वर्तत्
"Who bringeth you to-day for help with offered oblation, or with hymns to drink the juices? Who, for the sacrifice's ancient lover, turneth you hither, Aṣvins, offering homage?"
हि॒र॒ण्यये॑न पुरुभू॒ रथे॑ने॒मं य॒ज्ञं ना॑स॒त्योप॑ यातम् पिबा॑थ॒ इन्मधु॑नः सो॒म्यस्य॒ दध॑थो॒ रत्नं॑ विध॒ते जना॑य
"Borne on your golden car, ye omnipresent! come to this sacrifice of ours, Nâsatyas. Drink of the pleasant liquor of the Soma give riches to the people who adore you."
आ नो॑ यातं दि॒वो अच्छा॑ पृथि॒व्या हि॑र॒ण्यये॑न सु॒वृता॒ रथे॑न मा वा॑म॒न्ये नि य॑मन्देव॒यन्तः॒ सं यद्द॒दे नाभिः॑ पू॒र्व्या वा॑म्
"Come hitherward to us from earth, from heaven, borne on your golden chariot rolling lightly. Suffer not other worshippers to stay you here are ye bound by earlier bonds of friendship."
नू नो॑ र॒यिं पु॑रु॒वीरं॑ बृ॒हन्तं॒ दस्रा॒ मिमा॑थामु॒भये॑ष्व॒स्मे नरो॒ यद्वा॑मश्विना॒ स्तोम॒माव॑न्त्स॒धस्तु॑तिमाजमी॒ळ्हासो॑ अग्मन्
"Now for us both, mete out, O WonderWorkers, riches exceeding great with store of heroes, Because the men have sent you praise, O Aṣvins, and Ajamîḷhas come to the laudation."
इ॒हेह॒ यद्वां॑ सम॒ना प॑पृ॒क्षे सेयम॒स्मे सु॑म॒तिर्वा॑जरत्ना उ॒रु॒ष्यतं॑ जरि॒तारं॑ यु॒वं ह॑ श्रि॒तः कामो॑ नासत्या युव॒द्रिक्
"Whene'er I gratified you here together, your grace was given us, O ye rich in booty. Protect, ye Twain, the singer of your praises: to you, Nâsatyas, is my wish directed."