With deep reverence, I bow to Heaven and Earth, to the midspace between, and to Death itself. Standing upright, I gaze upward, praying that the mighty lords spare me from harm. In the face of adversity, I wonder: who will drive away this malevolent force that threatens us, who seeks the wealth of warriors and brings injury? Who among the gods, desiring sacrifice and fulfillment, will grant us the blessing of a long life? There is one who, having received the speckled cow—a generous gift from Varuṇa to Atharvan, ever-yielding and ever accompanied by her calf—cherishes friendship with Bṛhaspati. This one arranges his body as he wishes, free and favored. Turning from the speech of mortals, I choose the divine voice. May right guidance return, and may all friends be gathered together in harmony. O Agni Jātavedas, should we have erred—knowingly or unknowingly—protect us from the consequences of our forgetfulness. Wise Agni, grant that we may dwell in immortality among good friends. The seven rays of the sun dispel the darkness of day, just as the flowing streams of the cosmic ocean remove the piercing dart of affliction. If there are any who wish us harm—openly or in secret, known or unknown—O Agni, let the returning, giving one keep them far from us, and let their line not endure. Should anyone attack us—whether we are sleeping or awake, standing or moving—O Jātavedas, with Vaiśvānara as your ally, burn them away, facing them with your blazing power. I offer homage to the fierce, tawny one, master of himself at the dice. With ghee, I appease the losing throw—may he show us grace in this contest. O Agni, carry away from the dice all dust, sand, and grit. With ghee for the Apsarases, may the gods, rejoicing, accept their share of the oblation and delight in all offerings. The Apsarases rejoice in the shared feast, in the offering placed between the sun and us. May they unite my hands with ghee and subdue my rival, the deceitful gambler. Pour forth the new and the returning fortune upon us with ghee; and as an axe fells a tree, strike down those who oppose us in turn. He who brings us wealth by day, who governs both winning and losing at the dice—may that god, accepting this offering, grant us joy in the shared feast with the Gandharvas. The dice are called ‘Samvasava’, fierce lords of the realm. To them we pour libations and oblations—may we become masters of riches. When I seek the support of the gods, when I practice discipline, when I take up the tawny dice—may they be gracious to us in this matter. O Agni and Indra, you have slain the adversaries for the worshipper, for you are the mighty slayers of foes. You who conquered the worlds at the beginning and established all beings—O strong-armed destroyers of enemies, I invoke you, Agni and Indra, the vanquishers of adversaries. To you, O Indra and Bṛhaspati, the god himself offered the ladle. Come to us with our praise, O Indra, for the worshipper who pours the offering. You are Indra’s belly, the seat of Soma, the soul of gods and men. Here, let offspring be generated—may all who are present and all who are elsewhere find delight here. O shining Heaven and Earth, of noble vow and great ordinance, the seven divine waters have flowed forth—may these sacred streams release us from distress. May they free me from curses, from the wrath of Varuṇa, from Yama’s fetters, and from every divine offense. O thirst, and you who remove thirst, cut off that longing and bind it for the one who is to be bound, just as wrongdoers are bound for their deeds. You are thirst, and you are the remover of thirst; you are poison, and you are the antidote. As a rope is loosened from a bull, so release me from this bond. To you I give from my sides, my heart, and the brightness of my speech—thus I return to you all your radiance. Let diseases depart, let evil words be driven away; let Agni destroy the harmful ones, and Soma the malevolent. Let the evil mark fall away and perish utterly; with an iron brand, I join you to your enemy. Whatever misfortune, poverty, or ill-will has befallen me, let it fall away as a creeper slips from a tree. O golden-handed Savitar, bestower of wealth, carry it far from us. A hundred forms of misfortune are born with mortals, clinging to body and life. Among them, we drive out the most sinful and ruinous—O Jātavedas, grant us the auspicious. With these words, I separate the good from the bad, as one sorts cows in a herd. May good fortune delight here, and may the wicked depart from us. Homage to Rūrā, to the one who moves, to the impeller, the bold; homage to the cold one, the fulfiller of ancient desires. Whoever, on any day, approaches this frog—let him, who is without vows, approach. Come, Indra, with your delightful, tawny horses adorned with peacock feathers. Let no one restrain you, let no binders hold you back—come straight as an arrow, come to us. I cover your vital spots with armor; may Soma the king anoint you with immortality, may Varuṇa make you broad-chested, may the gods make you victorious and rejoice in you. Homage to Death, the Ender. May your breaths and out-breaths remain here; may this person stay with life, in the portion of the Sun, in the world of immortality. May Bhaga raise him up, may radiant Soma lift him, may the Maruts and the gods, Indra and Agni, all raise him up for well-being. Here is your breath, your life, your mind; we draw you away from the snares of Nirṛti by the words of the gods. Rise up, O person, do not follow the path of death; do not go to the broad house, do not depart from this world, from the sight of Agni and the Sun. May the wind blow for you, O Mātariśvan; may the immortal waters rain for you; may the Sun shine well-being upon your body; may Death be merciful—do not go away. For you, O person, I make a path for returning, a boat for living, skill for your vigor; come, ascend this immortal, pleasant chariot, and speak with a clear voice. Let not your mind wander or vanish; do not leave the living, do not go to the ancestors; may all the gods protect you here.