In the beginning, there were the golden-hued, pure, and radiant waters—sacred and resplendent. Within these waters, Savitṛ was born, and from them, Agni, the fire, emerged as well. These waters, bearing Agni like an embryo within their depths, shimmered with auspiciousness and gentleness. Among them moved King Varuṇa, discerning truth from falsehood among people, upholding cosmic order. Again, these waters, holding Agni as their seed, were invoked for their blessings. In the heavens, the gods fashioned their nourishment from these same waters, which appeared in many forms throughout the atmosphere, always carrying Agni in their womb. To these waters, prayers were offered: may they look upon us with auspicious eyes, may their touch bring only good to our skin. Flowing like clarified butter, pure and radiant, may they forever be gentle and beneficent to us. From honey itself arose Viru, the honey-born. With honey, this essence was drawn up from the earth, and the prayer followed: “You are born of honey—make us full of honeyed sweetness.” At the tip and the root of the tongue, honeyed sap resided, so that words might become pleasing, drawing hearts and minds together. May every approach and every departure be honey-sweet; may speech itself be imbued with sweetness, so that one is seen as honeyed and beloved. “I am of honey,” came the affirmation, “more honeyed than honey, most honeyed among all.” Yet, a plea arose: “Do not break me off, O forest, as a branch heavy with honey.” Around this sweetness, sweet cane was wrapped for those who came without hatred, so that women might desire, and men would not turn away. When the Daksha-born beings, filled with joy, bound gold for the one with a hundred banners, that gold was bound for life, brilliance, strength, long years, and a hundred autumns. Neither demons nor spirits could withstand it, for it was the primal might of the gods. Whoever bore this Daksha-born gold was granted long life among the living. Into the bearer were placed the radiance, light, vigor, and strength of the plants, as Indra once gathered his powers. Having passed through months and seasons, filled with the essence of the year, the one adorned with this gold was approved by Indra, Agni, and all the gods. Vena, the seer, beheld the supreme mystery where all forms become one. The speckled cow, in giving birth, poured forth streams, and those who knew the light approached these sacred flows. The knower of immortality, the Gandharva, declared the secret dwelling, knowing the highest place, where three steps are set in secrecy—whoever knows them becomes the ancestor of ancestors. He is our father and begetter, knowing all abodes and worlds, bearing a unique name among the gods, to whom all worlds come for inquiry. Swiftly, he moves, encompassing heaven and earth, the firstborn of immortality, established in all worlds as speech is in the speaker—this is Agni. He is the thread of immortality, encircling all worlds, where the gods, delighting in immortality, were born together in a common womb. The celestial Gandharva, lord of beings, alone is worthy of praise among all tribes. To him, reverence was offered, for his seat is in heaven. Touched in heaven, radiant as the sun, swift as a horse, endowed with divine power, the Gandharva was invoked for peace. Among the flawless ones and Apsarases, the Gandharva was present, their dwelling said to be the ocean, from which they come and go in an instant. He joins with the cloud, lightning, and stars, uniting with Viśvāvasu the Gandharva; to the goddesses, reverence was given. Even to those Gandharvas and Apsarases who bring weariness, darkness, longing for dice, and confusion, reverence was offered, acknowledging their power. From the summit of the mountain, that which runs down was gathered as a remedy, a most excellent medicine for those in need. From every limb, a hundred remedies were known, but among them, one stood highest—unflowing, disease-free. The Asuras dug deep for the great red substance, the remedy for discharge, destroyer of disease. Leeches drew medicine from the ocean, and again, the red substance was raised up from the earth, always a cure for affliction. May the waters and healing herbs be auspicious; may Indra’s bolt banish demons, and arrows, loosed from afar, strike down the forces of darkness. For long life, greatness, battle, and skill, the amulet called Jaṅgiḍa was worn, a ward against poison and corruption. The Jaṅgiḍa protected from jaws, poison, distress, and all harm, its thousand powers guarding on every side. It repelled all that was harmful, a universal remedy against all dangers. With the delight-filled amulet given by the gods, one could withstand poison and demons. May hemp and Jaṅgiḍa, drawn from forest, field, and juices, protect from all poison. This amulet turned back witchcraft and hostility, and the mighty Jaṅgiḍa carried its wearer to long life. Indra was then invoked: “Come forth, mighty one, with your bays; drink the pressed Soma, delighting in its sweetness for joy.” Indra was called to fill himself anew with the honey of heaven, as the exhilarating draughts of Soma were offered with sweet voices. Indra, friend and hero, who slew Vṛtra and broke open Vala, who would not endure his enemies, rejoiced in the intoxication of Soma. The pressed draughts were offered to him to fill his belly, and prayers ascended: “Know our devotion, hear our call, accept our songs, and delight here with your teams for our great battle.” Thus were proclaimed the heroic deeds of Indra: the slaying of the serpent, the release of the waters, the splitting of strongholds, and the shattering of mountains—deeds that brought blessings and protection to all.