Within Skambha, the cosmic pillar, all the worlds reside; in Skambha, the power of austerity is present, and the established order is upheld. Skambha is known directly, and within him, even Indra, the king of gods, finds all established. Likewise, in Indra are the worlds, the power of austerity, and the established order; Indra is known directly, yet all is firmly set within Skambha. In the beginning, the name was called out by its own name, emerging from the sun and the dawn. When the Unborn first came into being, he attained the sovereignty of sound—a realm beyond which nothing higher exists, nothing that has been. To this eldest Brahman, to whom the earth, the vast midspace, and the womb belong, and who made the sky his head, homage is offered. He whose eye is the sun and whose moon is ever renewed, who made fire his mouth—this eldest Brahman is honored. He whose breath is the wind, whose inhalation and exhalation are the Angiras, and who made the directions his wisdom—homage to him, the eldest Brahman. Skambha upheld both heaven and earth, the wide atmosphere, and the six broad regions; Skambha entered this entire world of beings. Born from toil and heat, equal throughout all worlds, and creator of Soma—homage to this eldest Brahman. Questions arise: How does the wind not settle? How does the mind not delight? Why do the waters, seeking truth, never settle at any time? In the midst of the world, established in austerity upon the surface of the waters, the great lord resides. All the gods rest upon him, like branches around the trunk of a tree. To whom the gods offer tribute with hands, feet, speech, ears, and eyes—declare that measured, immeasurable Skambha: which god is he? From him, darkness is driven away and destroyed by evil; in him are all the lights, the three, in the Lord of creatures. He who knows the golden reed standing in the waters is the secret Lord of creatures. Some weave the loom—two youthful ones approach, spinning six rays; one stretches the threads forward and sets them, while another neither removes them nor reaches their end. Of these two dancing around, which is beyond is unknown; one praises this, and one bears it above in heaven. These rays have supported the sky, they made the melodies, all for the wind. He who sustains all that was and will be, and who alone is lord of heaven—homage to the eldest Brahman. By Skambha are all supported: heaven and earth stand firm; Skambha is all this—whatever breathes, blinks, and moves. Three offspring moved forth, others entered the sun from all sides; the vast one stood, the measure of the realm, and entered the golden mares. Twelve spokes, one wheel, three hubs—who can understand this? There, three hundred and sixty pegs are struck, sixty are fixed and unmoving. Know this, O Savitar: six are born together, one is single-born; in him they wish to rest, who is their single-born. Manifest, yet hidden in the secret, the ancient, the great place; there all this is established, moves, breathes, and is sustained. A single wheel revolves with a single rim, a thousand spokes, moving forward and backward; with half of it, it generated the whole world of beings—where did its other half go? Drawn by five, the foremost of these is carried; the yokes are fastened, following in succession; its course is unseen, not having gone, nor is its going seen—one is not nearer, the other not farther. The ladle is crosswise, with its base above; in it is placed the glory of manifold forms. There, the seven sages sat together, becoming the guardians of its greatness. That which is yoked in front, behind, on all sides, and everywhere—by which the sacrifice is extended forward—of these, which one is the sacred verse? Whatever moves, flies, or stands still, whatever breathes or does not breathe, whatever blinks or becomes—this earth, of manifold forms, he upholds; by coming together, it becomes one alone. Endless, stretched out in many places, infinite yet bounded on all sides—he, the guardian of heaven, moves about searching, the wise one, both what has been and what will be. The Lord of creatures moves within the womb, unseen, yet is born in many forms; with half of him, he generated the whole world of beings—of his other half, which sign is that? He bears the water upward, as if with a vessel to be drawn; all see him with their eyes, but not all know him with their mind. He dwells far away with fullness, but with lack he is diminished; the great lord in the midst of the world, to him the rulers of the people bring tribute. From where the sun rises and where it sets—that alone is considered the greatest; nothing at all surpasses that. Those who speak of the present, the middle, or the ancient knowledge, all around—these declare the sun as the first, fire as the second, and the triple-winged swan. With a thousand days, the two wings of the swift swan fly through the sky to heaven; he, placing all the gods on his breast, beholding, goes to all the worlds. By truth he blazes upward, by the sacred word he looks downward; by breath he moves across, in whom the greatest is established. Whoever knows your two kindling sticks, by which the treasure is produced—he, being wise, should consider the greatest; he should know the great Brāhmaṇa. At first, he was born without feet, then he bore the sound at the beginning; becoming four-footed, fit for enjoyment, he took all food as his own. He became fit for enjoyment, and then gave much food; whoever worships the eternal god, the one who is beyond, attains him. They call him eternal, yet today he may become new again; day and night are born, each with a different form. A hundred, a thousand, ten thousand, a hundred million—innumerable are his own parts established within him; these, seeing, they strike at him, therefore the god shines forth—this is that.