With a solemn heart and reverent mind, I call out to you—inviting your presence, wishing that you may dwell among these homes. I pray that you journey onward, accompanied by the Fathers and by Yama, the lord of the departed, carried gently by the favoring winds. May the mighty Maruts lift you up, and those who bear upwards raise you higher; let the coolness of the goat soothe you, and may the rains moisten you, O cherished child. As you rise, may your life be restored—for vitality, for strength, for skill, for the fullness of living. Let your mind return to its own, then hasten to join the Fathers. Let not your mind be drawn to the cycles of the months, nor to the bodily organs, nor to the vital sap; let nothing of your limbs or body linger here. May neither the tree nor the great divine Earth burden you; instead, find your place among the Fathers, among the kings of Yama. If any part of you—breath, life, or any other essence—has wandered afar, may your gathered ancestors seat it again, portion by portion, restoring you whole. The living ones wept for him, carrying him away from the houses and the village. Death, the wise messenger of Yama, led his life-breaths to the Fathers. Let those evil ones who have mingled among the Fathers, who move about as kin yet remain unoffered, those who take away the offerings and carry fire, be driven far from this sacred sacrifice. May the Fathers enter here together, creating a pleasant resting place for us, granting us long life. Through our offerings to them, may we live many autumns, never failing in vigor. The cow, whose milk is sustenance, is pressed for you; by her, let the one who sat here alive be the sustainer of the people. Cross over to the well-horsed, well-served crossing, or to the newer path of the bearers. Let the one who struck you, who is to be slain, meet his fate; let him not claim any other share. Yama lies farther, while Vivasvat is nearer; beyond them, nothing more is seen. You have been placed upon Yama’s sacrifice for me; Vivasvat has stretched you out upon the earth. They separated the immortal from mortals, distinguishing for Vivasvat. The two Ashvins carried away what was given; Saranyu abandoned the two twins. Those who are buried, those placed above, those burned, and those exposed—bring all these Fathers here, O Agni, to partake of the oblation. Those burned by fire and those not burned, who rejoice in heaven by their own power—you know them, O Jātavedas, if you know; may they accept the sacrifice and offering with favor. O Agni, do not burn him excessively, nor scorch his body. Let your force remain in the logs; let your brightness shine upon the earth. I grant him this resting place; let the one who has come here be mine, if he is here. Yama, knowing, has replied: let this one stand by my wealth here. Let us measure out this span of life, so we do not fall short of what is due; may we reach a hundred autumns before. Again and again, let us measure out this span of life, so we do not fall short of what is due; may we reach a hundred autumns before—repeated as a sacred wish, seven times. May I not be separated from my mother; may I attain the realm of heaven, endowed with long life. May I not depart before my allotted time, nor be struck down among the hundred arrows, nor before my time. Breath, outgoing breath, diffused breath, life, and sight for seeing the sun—by the unerring path, go to the ancestors under the rule of Yama. Those who were foremost, who rejoiced, who passed beyond, abandoning hatred and childlessness—they discovered the world of heaven, shining atop the sky. The sky is filled with water, the middle region is abundant, and the third, highest heaven, is where the ancestors dwell. Those who are the fathers of our father, the grandfathers who entered the vast midspace, who oversee earth and sky—to those ancestors we offer reverent homage. Now, you will not see the sun in the sky again. As a mother wraps her child, so may the earth enfold you. Now, you will not see old age or anything else hereafter. As a wife wraps her husband with a garment, so may the earth enfold you. I wrap you with the auspicious garment of Mother Earth. May good fortune be among the living, sustenance with the ancestors, and may it be with you as well. Agni and Soma, makers of the path, have placed the precious abode among the gods. Send forth Pūṣan, who carries the departed swiftly along the paths; let them go there. Let Pūṣan, wise and protector of beings, drive you forth, he who loses no cattle. He gives to these ancestors, and Agni gives to the gods who grant good gifts. May the universal life-force protect you all around. May Pūṣan guard you on the forward path. Where the righteous dwell, where they have gone, there may the god Savitṛ place you. I yoke these two fires for you, to lead forth your breath. With them, may you reach the seat of Yama and his assembly. This is your first garment, it has come. Let it depart, which you wore before. Pass on, wise one, to the reward of your offerings and good deeds, where your gifts are distributed among many relatives. Put on the armor of Agni, surrounded by cows. Cover yourself with fat and marrow. May you, strong and eager, be led forth by force, and may you reach your place without delay. Taking the staff from your hand, with departed breath, hearing, brilliance, and strength—may we, heroic, together overcome all hostilities and adversaries. Taking the bow from the hand of the deceased, with power, brilliance, and strength—gathering wealth and abundant nourishment, come near, return to the world of the living. Thus, with prayer and ritual, the journey of the departed is guided—honoring the ancestors, seeking blessings for the living, and invoking the divine guardians to protect and lead the soul along its destined path.