From the depths of existence, the mighty sons of strength—lords in their own right—emerged from the very form of the cosmic buffalo. Moving in harmony with the heavens, they came forth for the one who delights in the sacred mead. It was Mātariśvan, the divine messenger, who stirred the hidden essence into motion. As this force was drawn away from the highest place of the Father, new shoots—drinkers of the sap—sprang forth upon the branches. When both lines of his birth were awakened, he shone resplendently, becoming the pure one in the sky. He then entered the mothers, pure and unharmed, expanding in all directions. Like the ancient ones who climbed ever upward, he, ever young, now moves among the newer and lower realms. Amidst the dwellers of heaven, the gods chose their summoner, seeking favor as Bhaga does. They sped forth, and by their will and might—praised by many—you, Agni, carried the prayers of mortals everywhere, placing them before the divine. When the sacrificial fire, driven by the wind, spread out like a neighing, unaging, untamed horse, its path was dark at the base and its tongue black, yet its origin pure. Thus, the realms were opened. Like a chariot harnessed for the journey, the fire ascended to the sky with its red limbs. From there, the black ones on the right—the sons—sought the swift strength of the hero, yearning for his might. With you, O Agni, Varuṇa—steadfast in his vow—Mitra, Aryaman, and the generous ones rejoiced. When, by your will, you moved among them, all-pervading, the rim of the chariot could not overtake the axle, so smooth and harmonious was your movement. O Agni, youngest of the gods, for the one who presses and praises, you grant abundant divine treasure. To you, ever new and youthful in strength, we seek great wealth—like Bhaga—in the assembly. You grant us shining wealth, O upholder, household prosperity, wisdom, and steadfastness. Like rays of light, you guide both the old and the young generations, bringing the gods’ praise and truth to us. May our radiant, ever-youthful Hotar, delightful and attentive, drawn by his shining chariot, hear us. May Agni, free from error, lead us with the best guides toward wealth and good fortune. Let Agni, with roaring flames, bearing the offering for sovereignty, rise up. May the generous ones, and we as well, surpass the mist as the sun outshines the darkness. O Agni, when you are kindled, bring the gods here today to the place of offering. Extend the ancient sacrificial 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, as Narāśaṃsa, the god among gods, descends thrice from heaven. Invoked, Agni, bring Indra—the splendid and beloved—here, for my thought is spoken directly to you, O well-tongued one. Those who spread the sacred grass and prepare the seat at the sacrifice, I choose the most god-favored shelter for Indra, broad and protective. Let the great, immortal ones proceed 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—seated with favor upon the sacred grass. With sweet tongues, the careful, divine Hotars, the wise ones, may they swiftly perform this sacrifice for us today, reaching to the heavens. Pure and established among the gods is the Hotar; among the Maruts, let Bhāratī, Ilā, Sarasvatī, and Mahī—those worthy ones—sit upon the sacred grass. May Tvaṣṭṛ, wondrous, all-protecting and many-formed, spread out widely for our nourishment and 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, the Maruts, all the gods, and to Vāyu with Svāhā, offer the oblation to Indra with the Gāyatra chant. 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—words and thoughts for the beloved Hotar, who, 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 and the act of kindling, his flame made heaven and earth shine. His fierce, unfailing rays—beautiful, shining, and lovely—his flames, like swift rivers, shine ever-young and never cease. The wise Bhṛgus chose Yama as the navel of the earth, the very support of the world. Praise that Agni in your own house, who alone shines like the wealthy Varuṇa as king. His sound is unmatched—like the roaring of the Maruts, like a host in motion, like a heavenly thunderbolt. Agni devours and carries off with his jaws and sharp teeth, like a warrior subduing his enemies and casting them down. Will Agni, the hero who delights in praise, grant us wealth? Will he fulfill our desire with treasures? May his impulse urge our thoughts to success. With a pure face, I praise him with inspired mind. With clarified butter as his face, Agni, firm in truth, is kindled like a friend. When kindled, he shines in the gatherings, sending forth bright flames and uplifting our thought. Agni, protect us with your unfailing, unwearied, and blessed guardians—both those who have not departed and those who have. With unassailable, uninjured, and chosen ones, with those who do not sleep, guard our kin on every side. The Hotṛ comes forth, upholding the law of his craft, raising high his radiant thought. He approaches the ladles, wrapped in the south, which first touch his abode. The milkers of the immortal have come, enclosed in the womb, in the seat of the god. When they have settled on the lap of the waters, they partake of the offering, moving with the streams. Desiring to unite, they display their form, sharing the same aim, distributing it among themselves. Then, like Bhaga, worthy of the offering, the bearer gathers the reins, the charioteer holds them together. The two, born of the same womb, to be served together, dwell as a pair—like day and night—one old, one young, ever moving, ageless through the generations of men. Ten inspired thoughts urge him on; we mortals call the god for help. On the slope of the bow he moves, newly prepared, advancing with those who go forth with skill. O Agni, you truly rule over the divine; by your nature, you are guardian of the earthly, like a herdsman. These broad ones, adorned with great splendor—the golden ladles—stretch out the sacred grass. Agni, accept and delight in this word—gracious, self-powered, born of truth, wise one. You who turn everywhere, visible and wondrous in form, a delight to behold, like a father’s dwelling. Ask him—he has come, he knows, he is wise, he advances and withdraws. In him are the commands, in him the offerings; he is the lord of strength, power, and vigor.