The constellations steal away, like thieves, 
Together with their beams, before the all-beholding Sun. 
His herald rays are seen afar refulgent o'er the world of men, 
Like flames of fire that burn and blaze.

Swift and all beautiful art thou, O Surya, 
Maker of the light, illuming all the radiant sky. 
Thou goest to the host of gods, 
Thou comest hither to mankind, 
Hither all light to be beheld. 
With that same eye thou look'st, 
O purifying Varuna, upon the busy race of men. 

Traversing sky and wide mid-air, 
Thou metest with thy beams our days, Sun, 
Seeing all things that have birth. 
Seven bay steeds harnessed to thy car bear thee, 
O thou far-seeing one, God, Surya, with the radiant hair. 

The Sun has harnessed the seven shining daughters of his chariot. 
He advances, driving his well-trained team.
Looking upon the loftier light above the darkness 
We have come to Surya, 
God among the gods, the highest light. 

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