परो मात्रया तन्वा वृधान न ते महित्वम् अन्व् अश्नुवन्ति । उभे ते विद्म रजसी पृथिव्या विष्णो देव त्वम् परमस्य वित्से ॥
paro mātrayā tanvā vṛdhāna na te mahitvam anv aśnuvanti | ubhe te vidma rajasī pṛthivyā viṣṇo deva tvam paramasya vitse ||
Men come not nigh thy majesty who growest beyond all bound and measure with thy body. Both thy two regions of the earth, O Visnu, we know: thou God, knowest the highest also.
न ते विष्णो जायमानो न जातो देव महिम्नः परम् अन्तम् आप । उद् अस्तभ्ना नाकम् ऋष्वम् बृहन्तं दाधर्थ प्राचीं ककुभम् पृथिव्याः ॥
na te viṣṇo jāyamāno na jāto deva mahimnaḥ param antam āpa | ud astabhnā nākam ṛṣvam bṛhantaṃ dādhartha prācīṃ kakubham pṛthivyāḥ ||
None who is born or being born, God Visnu, hath reached the utmost limit of thy grandeur. The vast high vault of heaven hast thou supported, and fixed earth's eastern pinnacle securely.
Rich in sweet food be ye, and rich in milch-kine, with fertile pastures, fain to do men service. Both these worlds, Visnu, hast thou stayed asunder, and firmly fixed the earth with pegs around it.
Ye have made spacious room for sacrificing by generating Surya, Dawn, and Agni. O Heroes, ye have conquered in your battles even the bull-jawed Dasa's wiles and magic.
इन्द्राविष्णू दृंहिताः शम्बरस्य नव पुरो नवतिं च श्नथिष्टम् । शतं वर्चिनः सहस्रं च साकं हथो अप्रत्य् असुरस्य वीरान् ॥
indrāviṣṇū dṛṃhitāḥ śambarasya nava puro navatiṃ ca śnathiṣṭam | śataṃ varcinaḥ sahasraṃ ca sākaṃ hatho apraty asurasya vīrān ||
Ye have destroyed, thou, Indra, and thou Visnu, Sambara's nine-and-ninety fenced castles. Ye Twain smote down a hundred times a thousand resistless heroes of the royal Varcin.
This is the lofty hymn of praise, exalting the Lords of Mighty Stride, the strong and lofty. I laud you in the solemn synods, Visnu: pour ye food on us in our camps, O Indra.
वषट् ते विष्णव् आस आ कृणोमि तन् मे जुषस्व शिपिविष्ट हव्यम् । वर्धन्तु त्वा सुष्टुतयो गिरो मे यूयम् पात स्वस्तिभिः सदा नः ॥
vaṣaṭ te viṣṇav āsa ā kṛṇomi tan me juṣasva śipiviṣṭa havyam | vardhantu tvā suṣṭutayo giro me yūyam pāta svastibhiḥ sadā naḥ ||
O Visnu, unto thee my lips cry Vasat! Let this mine offering, Sipivista, please thee. May these my songs of eulogy exalt thee. Preserve us evermore, ye Gods, with blessings.