In the beginning, the wise one was born—the kinsman of all creation—who alone could discern the origins and births of the gods. Brahman, the supreme, raised up Brahman from the very midst of existence, from below and above, standing firmly by his own eternal law. This great one, rooted in truth, established the vast earth and sky, making both realms and the space between steadfast and secure. From the deep foundation of birth, Bṛhaspati, lord of the gods, became sovereign, producing the radiant light of day and allowing the inspired ones to dwell in brilliance. His poetic power struck the great abode of the ancient god, born among many, dividing the former halves of existence. He who approaches Atharvan, the father, the divine kinsman, and Bṛhaspati with reverence, finds the wise god—the creator of all, self-sustaining and impervious to harm. This divine one gives self and strength; his command is honored by all, and his guidance followed by the gods. He rules over both two-footed and four-footed beings—upon whom shall we offer our oblation? He alone, living and blinking, became the great king of the world; his shadow is immortality, his shadow is death—upon whom shall we offer our oblation? The two crying ones, trembling, called to him from below; heaven and earth invoked him in fear. His path is the shining way of space—upon whom shall we offer our oblation? His greatness is spread by the vast heavens, earth, and broad atmosphere, and the sun proclaims his majesty—upon whom shall we offer our oblation? Even the Himalayas and the oceans declare his greatness; the directions are his arms—upon whom shall we offer our oblation? The primeval waters, bearing all as a womb, immortal and knowing the truth, established the divine one among the goddesses—upon whom shall we offer our oblation? At the dawn of creation, the golden embryo arose—the sole lord born of beings—upholding earth and heavens. The waters bore the calf, the embryo, and united together; as he was being born, a golden covering enveloped him—upon whom shall we offer our oblation? Then, three rose up: the tiger, the man, and the wolf. Swiftly, the rivers flowed; swiftly moved the god of the forest; swiftly departed the enemies. The wolf was sent by a distant path, the thief by the highest way; the rope given was sent far, and the evil-doer was made to depart. The eyes and mouth of the tiger were subdued, along with all its twenty claws. First, the tiger was subdued, then the thief, then the serpent, then the demon, then the wolf. Whoever came as a thief was crushed and sent away; Indra, with his thunderbolt, destroyed him by the path of the outcast. The head of the beast was struck, teeth broken, backs torn; the monitor lizard was hidden, and the deer lay low. What is restraint is not restraint; what is not restraint is restraint. Born of Indra and Soma, Atharvan’s tiger-subduing spell was spoken. A sacred plant, once dug up by the Gandharva for Varuna and the dead, was now dug up for you—the herb that brings joy and releases bonds. "Rise up, O Sun! Rise up, my speech! Let Prajapati, the bull, rise up with vigor and strength." Just as the root is not scorched, so may this herb make you more vigorous. The potent essence of herbs, the strength of bulls—Indra, place that virility in the one who controls his body. The sap of waters and trees, brother of Soma, bearer of the stallion’s virility, was invoked. Today, Agni, Savitar, Sarasvati, and Brahmanaspati, stretch out the fetter like a bowstring. The fetter was loosened as one loosens a bowstring, like a red deer stepping forth, never exhausted. The strength of horse, mule, goat, ram, and bull—let all that vigor be placed in the one who controls his body. The thousand-horned bull, risen from the ocean, was invoked to lull all people to sleep. The wind ceased to blow, vision was stilled; Indra’s friend, moving about, lulled all women to sleep. Whether lying on the floor or couch, those to be carried away, those with auspicious fragrance—all were lulled to sleep. The moving and unmoving, the grasp of sight, breath, and limbs—all were surpassed in the darkness of night. Whoever sat, moved, stood, or saw—their eyes were closed, just as the house is closed. Mother, father, dog, lord of the house, her relatives, and all people around her—let them sleep. "O Sleep, with your power, lull all people to rest; let others be lulled away to the sun, but let me remain awake, unharmed and unwearied, like Indra." The Brahman was born first, with ten heads and ten faces. He first drank Soma and made poison tasteless. As far as heaven and earth extend, as far as the seven rivers stretch, the speech that defiles poison was spoken forth. The eagle, Garutmat, first carried the poison, but it did not reach the mouth, nor the limb, nor become part of the father. He who sits with five fingers, even crooked from the bow, spoke out the poison from the splinter. From splinter, reed, leaf, bone, horn, and lump, the poison was spoken out and removed. Thus, through the wisdom and power of the gods, the world was created, protected, and healed, with prayers and rituals offered to the eternal divine.