From the depths of your being, from your belly, spleen, and navel, and from above your heart, I have spoken words to drive away the poison that causes wasting and weakness. Those afflictions that harm the sutures and attack the crown of your head—let them, now rendered harmless and free from disease, flow out through the body’s outer openings. The maladies that strike at your heart and stretch themselves through your being, the coughs that trouble you—may all these, too, depart, leaving you untouched and healthy. Similarly, those that torment your sides or pierce your back, those that move transversely or disturb the sutures in your flanks—let them, now powerless, exit through the body’s outer pathways. Even those that creep in the rectum and disturb the intestines, let them flow out, harmless and disease-free. May the mortars that grind and break apart, yet do not harm and are free from disease, drive out illness from its hidden places. O Ropaṇā, those diseases which afflict your limbs and cause distress, I declare their poison removed from you. Ulcers, abscesses, disorders caused by wind, and diseases of the hair—let their poison be driven away. From your feet, knees, hips, and all your joints, from burning pains and harmful aches, may the disease of the head and the pain of the limbs be destroyed. Along with the bones of your head and the disturbances of your heart, as the rising sun dispels darkness with its rays, may these afflictions be dispelled. Now, let us turn to the mysteries of the cosmos. Of this grey one, the left one, the sacrificer—his middle brother is the eater, and the third is ghee-backed. In this vision, I saw the lord of the clan with seven sons. Seven harness the chariot with one wheel; a single horse, named Seven, draws it. The wheel has three hubs, is ageless and unbroken, and upon it all worlds are established. Upon this chariot, seven stand; it has seven wheels, and seven horses draw it. Seven sisters join together, and here are placed the seven names of cows. Who saw the first being born—the boneless one who bears bones? Where is the soul, the maker of the earth? Who, knowing, came forward to ask this? Let him speak who knows the place where the left one is set. The cows draw milk from its head; wearing a covering, they reached water by their steps. I ask with my mind, not knowing, about the places set for the gods. On the calf, on the spotted one, the sages stretched seven threads and wove them. Not knowing, I ask the wise, even those who know, like the learned. He who upheld six regions in the form of the unborn—what is the one? The mother shared nectar with the father; at first, she approached with her mind. Fierce, filled with the essence of the embryo, those who bow went to the speech. The mother, yoked, stood to the right; the embryo was within the wombs. The calf measured, saw the cows, and beheld the universal form in three unions. Bearing three mothers and three fathers, one stood upright, never tiring the rim. They converse on the back of heaven, knowing all speech and all names. Five spokes revolve in the wheel upon which all worlds are set. Its axle is heated by great weight; from the beginning, it is neither cut nor is its nave. They call the father five-footed, twelve-formed, dwelling in the far half of heaven. Then others, above, are seen: seven-wheeled, six-spoked, they say, is set. The twelve-spoked wheel revolves in the sky of immortality, never aging. Here, O Agni, your twin sons—seven hundred and twenty—stand. The wheel with a hundred spokes, ageless, revolves; ten yoked carry it upright. The eye of the sun, wrapped in dust, is the foundation upon which all worlds settle. They call those women true, but say she belongs to a man; the one who sees is wise, the blind is unaware. The poet’s son perceives these things; whoever knows them is his father’s true son. Together-born, they call the seventh single-born; six are born, say the sages, from the gods. Their desired forms are established, shining in their stations, transformed in appearance. With one step forward and one step back, the cow stands holding her calf. That Kadru-born one departs with half; where does she give birth, not among this herd? With one step forward, whoever knows his father; with one step back, he goes beyond. Who here, pondering, can declare whence the divine mind was born? Those who are near, they call far; those who are far, they call near. Indra and Soma made these things; yoked to the axle, they carry the dust. Two birds, united friends, embrace the same tree. One eats the sweet fruit, the other looks on without eating. On the tree where honey-giving birds settle, all the gods rest. What they call the sweet fruit at the tip, let it not perish; he does not know his father. Where the birds sing of immortality, unblinking, in the gatherings, with them as guardians of all the worlds, the wise entered the ripe fruit here. Whatever is placed upon the Gāyatrī, or the Gāyatra, or measured by the Triṣṭubh or Triṣṭubha, or the Jagatī or Jagatī verse—those who know this have attained immortality. With the Gāyatrī, he measures the hymn; with the hymn, the Sāman; with the Triṣṭubh, the speech. With speech, speech; with two-footed, four-footed syllables, he measures the seven voices. With the Jagatī, he supported the celestial river, and in the chariot’s midst, he beheld the sun. There are three kindlings of the Gāyatra; from that greatness, its majesty expanded. I call upon this cow, rich in milk, with good hands; the milker milks her. Savitar brought us the best offering; the heated vessel declared this to us. Lowing, the mistress of wealth, desiring her calf, she approached with her mind. Let us milk this uninjured one for the Ashvins; may she grow for great prosperity. The cow, thinking of her calf, lowing as a mother, approaches his head. She, longing for the heated vessel, measures the span of life, nourishing with her milk. This is the one who sprinkles, by whom the cow, encircled, measures the span of life, reaching the limit of the dust. She, with thoughts, has made mortals; becoming lightning, she has spread forth. Thus, through prayers and mysteries, the poisons of illness are dispelled, and the cosmic truths are revealed, weaving together the health of the body and the wonder of the universe.