Let us enter the sacred hall, the seat of the gods, and witness the ancient rites unfolding. The bindings that hold the mind’s wife—the pincers, the plates, and the clasp of the embrace—are gently loosened and set free. Whatever lies within baskets, whatever is pierced for pleasure, these too are released, so the wife of the mind does not rise against her own form. The offering place, the fire hall, the seat of the wives, and the assembly—all are gathered within the hall, itself revered as the divine seat of the gods. The axle, the yoke, the thousand-eyed crossbeam—whatever is bound or declared by the Brahman—is now loosened and set free. Whoever receives this hall, and by whom it is measured, may both—mind and wife—live long and grow old together. Let no one depart to the other world before their time; what is firmly bound and adorned, every limb and joint, is now released and set free. He who measured this hall and joined together the trees is Prajāpati, the supreme lord, who made it for the sake of offspring. To him we offer homage, to the giver, to the lord of the hall, and to Agni who moves. We bow to you, O person, with reverence. Homage is offered to the cows, to the horses, and to all that is born within the hall. In this hall, abundant in offspring and progeny, we loosen your bonds. You shelter those who possess fire, together with their cattle; in this fertile hall, we release all ties. With that which stretches between heaven and earth, we take hold of this shelter. The expanse of the atmosphere, the domain of dust, becomes a womb for the auspicious ones. With this, we secure the shelter for those who dwell within. Rich in nourishment and milk, established upon the earth, measured and bounded, bearing all food—O shelter, do no harm to the one who receives you. Covered with grass and bearing fruit, clothed like the night, you are the resting place of the world. Measured, you stand upon the earth, as firm as an elephant with its footprints. Whatever is bound within you, O iṭa, is loosened and filled anew. May Mitra release in the morning what Varuna has bound. By Brahman, the shelter is established; by the sages, it is measured and secured. May Indra and Agni protect this immortal shelter, the seat of Soma. Within the nest upon the nest, within the vessel placed in the vessel, a mortal is born—from whom all creation arises. Those with two, four, six, eight, or ten wings, all that are measured—O shelter, wife of the mind—you lie as the embryo of fire. Facing west, we approach you, O shelter, unharmed. Fire and the inner waters are the first doors to truth. We bring forth these waters, free from disease and destroyers of sickness. We enter these houses together with immortality and with Agni. Do not bind us with a heavy burden; let it be light. Like a bride, O shelter, we carry you wherever we wish. To the eastern direction of the shelter, homage to its greatness—svāhā to the gods, svāhā to the divine ones. To the south, west, north, the fixed, and the upward directions—homage to their greatness, svāhā to the gods, svāhā to the divine ones. To every direction of the shelter, homage and svāhā to the gods and divine ones. Now, let us contemplate the one who is a thousandfold, powerful as a bull, rich in milk, bearing all forms within his breasts. He grants good to the giver and instructs the sacrificer, the offspring of Brihaspati, weaving the sacred thread. He who was foremost among the waters, the mighty one, became an image for all—like the divine earth. May he, the father of calves and lord of cows, grant us abundance a thousandfold. This strong, ancient bull, full of milk, bears the body of the treasure; let Agni, the knower of all births, carry him, offered with godly paths, to Indra. He is the father of calves, the lord of cows, and also the father of the great roaring ones. The calf, wrapped in its membrane, yields nourishing milk—this is the butter, the seed of the treasure. This one brings near the share for the gods—the essence of waters, plants, and butter. Shakra chose the Soma-food, and the great mountain became his body. You bear the vessel filled with Soma; Tvaṣṭṛ is the creator of forms and cattle. May those here who are fruitful be auspicious for you—grant to us those who are here and those who are there. He bears clarified butter, his seed is ghee, his abundance a thousandfold; him they call the sacrifice. The bull, clothed in fat, is the form of Indra—may the gods, being gracious, send him to us as a gift. His strength belongs to Indra, his arms to Varuṇa, his shoulders to the Aśvins, his hump to the Maruts. The wise, the poets, the thinkers say this is the gathered form of Bṛhaspati. You extend yourself with the milky essence of the divine hosts; you are called Indra, you are called Sarasvat. He who offers the bull to the Brahmin gives a thousand with a single mouth. Bṛhaspati and Savitṛ have given you wings; the vital breath of Tvaṣṭṛ surrounds you. With my mind I offer you in the midspace—may both heaven and earth stand firm on the sacred grass. He who, among gods and cows, speaks out like Indra—may the Brahman praise the limbs of that bull with a blessing. Let the sides be of Anumati, the thighs of Bhaga; Mitra declared, “These two, having bones, are mine alone.” Let the buttocks be of the Ādityas, the hips of Bṛhaspati; the tail is of Vāta, the god—by it he shakes the plants. Thus, in the sacred hall, amidst the gods and the elements, bonds are loosened, abundance is invoked, and all is offered up in reverence to the divine.