Amidst the brown-hued ones, there is one who stands out, adorned and mighty. He bows down, yet like a powerful bull, he approaches his wives with a roaring presence. As he grows in strength, his body shines with radiance; fierce as horns, he charges forward, difficult to grasp. This one, well-ordered and expansive, gathers all together, knowing each as though he knows those who are always at rest. Even as they depart to the divine realms, they are renewed—together they create another form for their two parents. The agile ones, their hair flowing, rise up with their cries. Without anger, they return for the journey, casting off their old age, moving forth with vibrant sound, giving birth to another, ever-living, tireless being. Adorned, he moves around the mother day after day, his powers strong, transcending old age. Bearing youth, he glides like a swan, ever desiring, while the eagle joins him along the path. O Agni, shine among us, among the generous. Like a strong bull, O guardian of the house, breathe forth your energy. Let the one who must dwell, the child-bearing flame, never fail, but be protected like armor in battle. Agni, may this well-offered oblation be dearer to you than any ill-offering; may it delight your mind. With your bright, pure radiance shining from your body, win for us the treasures we seek. Grant us, Agni, for our chariot, for our boat, and for our home, the ever-guiding, path-bearing one. For our heroes, our generous people, and all travelers, grant your protection. May you, Agni, praised by us, approach with our hymn, together with Heaven and Earth and the well-praised rivers. Seeking cattle and barley, with your enduring sound, let the red ones choose the best for us. A wondrous radiance is set forth, fashioned for form—the brilliance of the god of might from whom it was born. When thought approaches and is accomplished, the cows of truth pour forth their flowing streams. The shining one, rich in fathers, always lies down; the second dwells among the seven nurturing mothers. For the milking of this bull, the women produce a third, the tenfold wise one. From the depths, the sons of strength, lords by their power, emerge from the form of the buffalo. For the mead-drinker, following the sky, Mātariśvan stirs the hidden one. When it is led away from the highest father, the sap-drinkers grow on the bough. When both his birth-lines are stirred, he shines forth, becoming pure in the sky. Then he enters the mothers, pure and unharmed, expanding widely. As the former ones ascend, ever-young, he moves among the newer and lower ones. Among the dwellers in heaven, they choose the summoner, seeking favor like Bhaga, they speed forth. By the gods’ will and might, praised by many, you, Agni, carry mortal prayers everywhere, to be placed before the divine. Driven by the wind, the sacrificial fire spreads out like a neighing horse—unaging, unbroken. Its path is dark at the base, black-tongued, of pure birth, and it opens up the realms. Like a chariot, well-harnessed, it speeds with its red limbs to the sky. From there, the black ones—sons—on the right, seek the swiftness of the strong, desiring the hero’s might. With you, Agni, Varuṇa—firm in vow—Mitra, Aryaman, and the generous ones rejoice. When, by your will, you move among them, all-pervading, the rim never overtakes the axle. O Agni, youngest, for the one who presses and praises, you bestow treasure—divine and abundant. Ever new, youthful in strength, we seek great wealth from you, like Bhaga, in the assembly. You grant us shining wealth, householding, wisdom, and firmness, O upholder. Like rays, you guide both generations; you bring the praise of gods and truth. May our radiant, ever-youthful Hotar, delightful and attentive, with a shining chariot, hear us. May Agni, free from error, lead us with the best guides to wealth and good fortune. Let Agni, with roaring flames, bearing the sovereign offering, ascend. May those generous ones, and we ourselves, surpass the mist, shining like the sun outshines darkness. Kindled Agni, bring the gods here today to the place of offering. Extend the ancient thread for the worshipper who has pressed the Soma. Come to us, Agni, to the ghee-laden, honey-sweet offering, for the wise sacrificer who seeks your favor, for the devoted worshipper. Pure, radiant, and wondrous, Agni longs to taste the honeyed sacrifice—Narāśaṃsa, thrice from heaven, the god among gods. Invoked, Agni, bring Indra, splendid and beloved, here; for this thought of mine, O well-tongued one, is spoken directly to you. Those who spread the sacred grass, who prepare the seat at the sacrifice—I choose the most god-favored shelter for Indra, broad and protective. Let the great, immortal ones go forth to the gods; let the pure, much-desired divine doors open wide in all directions. Let Night and Dawn, adorned and splendid, approach together; the two youthful mothers of truth, sit on the sacred grass with favor. With sweet tongues, the careful, divine Hotars, the wise ones, may they perform this sacrifice for us today, swiftly, reaching to the heavens. Pure, set among the gods, is the Hotar; among the Maruts, Bhāratī, Ilā, Sarasvatī, and Mahī—let these worthy ones sit on the sacred grass. May Tvaṣṭṛ, wondrous, all-protecting, many-formed, for our nourishment, spread wide for wealth, as our support and foundation. The gods, by their own power, have sent forth the divine ones, O Lord of the Forest. Agni, the wise god among gods, gladly receives the offerings. To Pūṣan, to the Maruts, to all the gods, to Vāyu, with Svāhā, to Gāyatra, offer the oblation to Indra. Come to the offerings made with Svāhā for favor; come, Indra, hear the call, for you are invoked at the sacrifice. Now I bring forth a mighty, fresh hymn of praise for Agni, the son of strength, with words and thought. The beloved Hotar, together with the Vasus, has established himself as the priest on earth. Born in the highest heaven, Agni became visible for Mātariśvan. By his will, by the act of kindling, his flame made heaven and earth shine. His fierce, unfailing rays, beautiful and shining, his flames—like swift rivers—shine forth, ever-young, never ceasing. The wise Bhṛgus chose Yama as the navel of the earth, the support of the world. Praise that Agni with hymns in your own house, who alone shines like the wealthy Varuṇa as king. His sound is unmatched, like the roaring Maruts, like a host on the move, like a heavenly thunderbolt. Agni devours and carries off with his jaws and sharp teeth, like a warrior subduing his foes and casting them down. Will Agni, the hero who delights in praise, grant us wealth? Will he fulfill our desires with treasures? May his impulse urge our thoughts to success. With pure face and inspired mind, I offer him this praise.