ROUSED from their bosom is the Dawns' beloved, the joyous Monk, most sapient, Purifier.

He gives a signal both to Devas and mortals, to Devas oblations, riches to the pious.

Most wise is he who brought the bright Sun to us who feedeth many. The cheerful Monk, men's Friend and home-companion, through still night's darkness he is made apparent.

Wise, our gracious guest, a friend with good attendants. Shines forth with wondrous light before the Mornings; the young plants hath he entered, Child of Waters.

Seeking our gatherings, he, your Jātavedas, hath shone adorable through human ages, who gleams refulgent with his lovely lustre.

Go on thy message to the Devas, and fail not, O Agni, with their band who meditate and make offerings. Bring all the Devas, Indra, Waters.

Sing praise in choral song, O Jātavedas. Ye Devas, preserve us evermore with blessings.