May the wondrous and all-protecting Tvaṣṭṛ, whose forms are manifold, spread himself wide for our nourishment, becoming the foundation and support for our wealth. The gods, by their own power, have sent forth the divine ones; O Lord of the Forest, Agni, the wise among gods, gladly receives the offerings. To Pūṣan, to the Maruts, to all the gods, to Vāyu, with Svāhā, and to Gāyatra, the oblation is offered to Indra. Come, Indra, to these offerings made with Svāhā; hear our call, for you are invoked at the sacrifice. Now, a mighty and fresh hymn of praise is raised for Agni, the son of strength, in words and thought. The beloved Hotar, together with the Vasus, has established himself as the priest upon earth. Born in the highest heaven, Agni became visible for Mātariśvan; by his will and kindling, his flame made heaven and earth shine. His fierce, unfailing rays, beautiful and lovely in form, shine forth like swift rivers—Agni, ever-young and never ceasing. The Bhṛgus, who know all, chose Yama as the navel of the earth, the world’s support; praise that Agni in your house, who alone shines like the wealthy Varuṇa as king. His sound is unsurpassed—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, subduing enemies as a warrior casts them down. Will Agni, the hero who delights in praise, grant us wealth and fulfill our desires with treasures? May his impulse urge our thoughts to success; with 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 gatherings, sending forth bright flames and uplifting our thought. Agni, protect us with your unfailing, unwearied, and blessed guardians—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 approached, enclosed in the womb, in the seat of the god; settling 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 and distributing it among themselves. Then, like Bhaga, worthy of the offering, the bearer gathers the reins, the charioteer holds them together. The two, to be served together, born of the same womb, dwell together as a pair—like day and night, one old, one young, ever moving, ageless through generations of men. Ten inspired thoughts urge him on; mortals call the god for help. On the slope of the bow he moves, newly prepared, advancing with those who go forward with skill. Agni, you truly rule over the divine and, by your nature, 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, wondrous in form, visible, 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. Though questioned, none can fully question him; the wise one grasps with his own mind. His first and last word is not denied; he stands firm in will, unshaken. To him the offerers come, to him the swift ones; he alone hears all words. Sent forth in many ways, he accomplishes the sacrifice—flawless, the child, the eager one, takes up the work. When he moves, attending at the place of offering, newly born, he takes up the work with those who are yoked. They touch the eager one in joy, as the shining ones approach the well-placed seat. Like a wild beast set in the forest, his skin placed on the altar, Agni, wise and knower of truth, speaks to mortals with skill. Agni, three-headed, seven-rayed, flawless, is praised at the lap of his parents. Seated in the firm, moving course, he fills all the shining regions of the sky. The mighty bull, ever-young and exalted, advances with power, setting his foot upon the summit of the broad earth; his reddish streams swell forth from his udder. The cows, moving together, circle around their common calf; everywhere the excellent milkers wander, unwearied, measuring the paths, bearing all signs upon their great bodies. The wise, the poets, lead the path, each guarding the undying with diverse hearts; seeking to know, they beheld the river, and for them the sun became visible among men. He is to be beheld, worthy of vision among the boundaries, invoked for greatness, for the child to live. For he, the Sun, appeared in many places, most visible from the wombs, O generous one. How, O Agni, have the shining ones served you with offerings, eager for prizes? When, in both family and offspring, the gods, upholding the song of truth, have rejoiced. Hear me, youngest one, O mighty, self-sustaining one of abundant offering. He drinks after you, he praises you, your worshipper—your form I worship, O Agni. Those guardians, O Agni, not of my kin, seeing the darkness, protected from harm; you preserved those righteous ones, all-knowing, while the envious, hostile ones did not prevail. Whoever, O Agni, opposes us—whether a wrongdoer or an enemy—let the powerful spell turn back upon him; cleanse our form from evil words. Or if some mighty, wise mortal harms another with double-dealing, protect the one who praises and worships you, O Agni; let not harm befall us. When Mātariśvan churned him out—the all-divine Hotar, pervading all waters—men placed him among the tribes, shining, radiant, splendid in form. Giving, yet not exhausting, my thoughts, Agni, are for your protection and for mine; may all your deeds be accepted, as the poet bears up the praise. Even in the eternal dwelling, they have held him; the worshipful ones have established him with praises. They lead forth the streams and hold the desired, like horses eager for the chariot. The wondrous one breaks through many things with his jaws; he shines forth in the forest, radiant. His flame follows after the wind, like a sharpened spear, extending to the days. Neither rivals nor adversaries, though dwelling in the womb, can stir him; the blind, the unseeing, do not harm him by their approach. The eternal guardians have protected him. He, lord of great wealth, seeks the path of the generous, of the treasure; the stones approach him as he comes to the place of pressing.