O Ram, you who are well-spoken and filled with favor, come near and drive away the lurking demon from among us. May you protect the first, the ancient ones—the ancestors and the descendants of seers, those who partake of the sacred offerings—so that no harm may befall them. Within the noble line of seers, I place you, O sacred porridge, for here too are gathered other descendants of seers. Agni, the radiant fire, stands as my protector, together with all the Maruts and all the gods. May they safeguard the cooked food, the heart of our sacrifice. This sacrifice is ever-yielding, ever-nourished, like a bull and a cow, the very seat of abundance and wealth. May blessings come to you: offspring, immortality, long life, and prosperity in overflowing measure. You, O offering, are the heavenly bull. Go forth to the seers and their descendants, and in the world of the righteous, let our prepared gift find its resting place. Come together, all of you, proceeding in order. O Agni, prepare the path of the gods. With these good deeds, may we follow the sacrifice, ascending to the heaven where the seven-rayed one dwells. By the same means by which the gods, filled with light, ascended to heaven after preparing the sacrificial porridge—by that very path may we, too, rise to the world of the righteous and reach the highest heaven. O Bhava and Sarva, be gracious to us. Do not approach with harm, O Lords of beings and cattle. We offer you our homage. May your missile, once aimed, not be released; do not bring injury upon us—neither upon the two-footed nor the four-footed. Harm not the bodies of the dog, the jackal, nor those of the outcastes, the vultures, nor the dark, flesh-eating birds. O Lord of cattle, even the flies are your birds; let the devourers not discover us. To your cry, your breath, and your planted roots, we bow in reverence. Salutations to you, Rudra, thousand-eyed and immortal. We offer our salutations to you in the east, in the north, below, and above; from every direction, to the sky and the midspace, we bow to you. To your mouth, O Lord of beings, to your eyes, O Bhava, to your skin, your form, your vision, and your western aspect, we bow in homage. To your limbs, your belly, your tongue, your mouth, your teeth, and your fragrance, we bow with reverence. May we not contend with the weapon of the blue-crested, thousand-eyed, swift Rudra, the half-striker. May Bhava encompass us on every side, as water or fire surrounds. May Bhava protect us and not attack us; let there be reverence to him. Four times, eight times, ten times, we bow to Bhava, to you, O Lord of beings. These five creatures of yours are divided: cows, horses, men, and goats. Your four directions, your heaven and earth, and this fierce midspace—all belong to you, as does everything that breathes upon the earth. Your broad vessel is the earth itself, in which all worlds dwell. Be gracious to us, O Lord of beings; we bow to you. May the distant howlers, the loud barkers, the far-going, and the fierce-haired stay away from us. You bear a green bow, golden and crested, striking a thousand, slaying a hundred. The arrow of Rudra moves—a divine weapon. To it, and to the direction where it is aimed, we bow. Whoever approaches to harm you, Rudra, whoever seeks to injure you, let such a one be struck from behind, like the track of a wounded beast. Bhava and Rudra, united in purpose and knowledge, both fierce and moving for strength—to them, and to the direction of their weapon, we bow. Salutations to you who advances, and to you who withdraws. Salutations to you, Rudra, whether you stand or sit; to you, we bow. Salutations in the evening, in the morning, at night, and by day; to Bhava and to Śarva, to both, we bow. The thousand-eyed, all-seeing Rudra stands before us, wise in countless ways. May my tongue not offend him. To the dark horse, the black one, the unyielding and terrible chariot, the hairy one trampling—both ancient and western—we bow in reverence. Let not the divine weapon strike us; let not your anger, O Lord of beings, fall upon us. Move your heavenly branch elsewhere. Let him not harm us—speak kindly to us, surround us, and do not be angry. May we not contend with you. Do not covet us among cattle or men; do not desire us among goats or sheep. Fierce one, turn elsewhere; destroy the offspring of those who are dear to you. Whose fever, coughing, and weapon, like the neighing of a stallion, cries out—he drives it away from before him; to him we offer homage. He who stands in the midspace, firmly established, destroying the offerings of those who do not sacrifice, the drinker of the gods—to him be homage, with ten verses of praise. To you belong the wild animals of the forest, the beasts set in the woods, swans, eagles, birds, and all flying creatures. Your mysterious power, O Lord of beasts, is poured forth by the divine waters within the waters, for your increase. The dolphins, pythons, those with armored bodies, fish, and all those whom you strike with dust—no place is distant or remote for you. You are present everywhere; you see the entire earth at once, from the eastern to the western ocean. Do not, O Rudra, harm us with fever, nor with poison, nor let us waste away with celestial fire. Cast your lightning elsewhere, away from us. You are Bhava in heaven, you are lord of the earth, and you have filled the broad midspace. To that power, wherever you are directed, we offer homage. O Bhava, king, be gracious to the sacrificer, for you have become the lord of cattle. To whoever has faith and declares, "the gods exist," be gracious to his four-footed and two-footed creatures. Do not harm our great one, nor our child. Do not harm the one who carries, nor the one who will carry. Do not injure our father or mother, nor our own body. O Rudra, do not wrong us. To Rudra’s howling forms, to those who devour unuttered hymns, to these great-mouthed ones, to the dogs, we offer homage. Homage to the noisy ones, to the long-haired ones, to those who are saluted, and to those who feast together. Homage to the divine hosts; may there be well-being and safety for us. Of that sacrificial porridge, Bṛhaspati is the head, and Brahman is the mouth. Heaven and earth are its ears, the sun and moon are its eyes, and the seven sages are its breath and exhalation. The pestle is its eye, and desire is the mortar. Thus, with reverence and praise, the ritual, the offering, and all beings are united in the presence of the divine, seeking protection, blessing, and ascent to the highest realms.