Victory is ours—bursting forth is ours—prosperity is ours. Our brilliance, our sacred knowledge, our heaven, our sacrifice, our cattle, our offspring, and our heroes belong to us. With this certainty, we set apart this one—this descendant, this son of that one, whoever he may be—so that he remains bound to the sacred order, not breaking the bonds of the Atharvans. Again and again, this proclamation resounds: victory, radiance, prosperity, knowledge, the heavens, sacrifice, all the wealth of life, and the strength of our heroes are ours. By these blessings, we consecrate this descendant, ensuring he does not loosen the ties of the Atharvan lineage, nor the bonds of the forest lords and forest beings, nor those of the seasons, the periods of the year, the months, and the half-months. We pray that he remains firmly bound to the cycles of day and night, to the joined day, to the union of heaven and earth, to the powers of Indra and Agni, and to the order of Mitra and Varuna, and especially to the sovereignty of King Varuna. In all these, our victory, our bursting forth, our prosperity, our brilliance, our sacred knowledge, our heaven, our sacrifice, our cattle, our offspring, and our heroes are affirmed. With this strength, we declare: may all battles and hostilities be driven far from us. Let Agni, Soma, and Pūṣan speak: “May you not fall from the world of the righteous.” We have reached heaven, we have reached the light; together, we have come into the radiance of the sun. May the sacrifice bring abundance and wealth; may I win and become wealthy; let wealth be placed within me. O friend, let me choose friendship with you. Even after crossing many wide oceans, let the wise one establish the descendant of the father upon the earth as a shining bridge. Yet, one is not truly a friend if he does not desire this friendship, if he becomes of a different form. The sons of greatness, heroes of the Asura, upholders of the sky—they are renowned in the wide expanse. Even the immortals long for you, the single, visible, mortal being. Let your mind not dwell on us, nor desire to seize our body, O youthful one. Let us not repeat what we did before; let us speak truth and not embrace falsehood. The Gandharva dwells in the waters, and the maiden too—may that be our highest bond, our kinship. In the womb, our begetter is the pair—the husband and wife—fashioned by the god Tvaṣṭṛ, and Savitṛ of manifold forms. No one breaks his laws; earth and sky both know his vessel. Who today yokes the cows to the yoke of truth—the strong, the shining, the long-lived? They were near, in the heart, bringing joy—he who fulfills their service lives. Who knows the first day of this one? Who has seen it? Who here can declare it? The vast domain of Mitra and Varuṇa—how can I speak of the origin of men? Yama’s sister, Yamī, desired Yama, longing to come together in the same womb, to lie together. Like a wife yearning for her husband, she wished to unite, but Yama broke away, like a chariot wheel leaving the road. These here neither stand nor sit; they are the spies of the gods who move about. Go with another who delights you, break apart with him as a wheel separates from the road. May night and day grant us favor; may the sun’s eye measure us again and again. By day and by night, earth and sky are joined with kin—yet Yamī was separated from Yama. Go on to later generations, where wives create offspring; embrace the arm of a bull, seek a husband, O fortunate one, as you desire. What is a brother if he becomes helpless? What is a sister if misfortune befalls her? If I have sinned in this, let me bear it; protect my body with your body. I am not your protector here, Yamī, nor have I joined my body with yours. Seek delight with another, not with your brother, O fortunate one—he does not wish for this. Nor would I join my body with yours; it is called evil if a sister approaches her brother. This thought, this feeling, is not mine—that a brother should lie with his sister. Alas, Yama, I have not found your mind or your heart; another, as a companion yoked to you, has embraced you at birth, as a vine embraces a tree. Some other woman, O Yamī, embraces you at the union, as a creeper wraps around a tree. Let your mind desire her, and let her mind desire you; let there be harmony between you both. The poets composed three meters, perceiving the many forms and the all-seeing one. Waters, winds, and plants—all these are established in a single world. The bull has milked for the mighty one, by his effort, the heavenly waters; the powerful, unassailable son of Aditi. Varuna knows all, by wisdom; he honors the worthy seasons as the worthy one. Let the Gandharvi and the woman both protect our mind with the sound of the river. In the midst of what is desired, may Aditi establish us; our brother, our eldest, speaks forth first. She, radiant and blessed, full of glory, has awakened for Manu, bearing light. When the awakened ones follow the awakened, they generate Agni, the priest, for the ritual. Then that splendid and perceptive drop, the powerful eagle, shines forth in the sacrifice. When noble people choose excellent Agni as priest, then wisdom is born.