Let the powerful fires surge forth, vibrant and full of vigor, their light mingling and racing, yoked to spotted mares. The mighty Maruts, great milkers and all-knowing, shake even the unyielding mountains with their force. In this moment, Agni’s splendor shines, and the Maruts, along with all peoples, are invoked for their fierce and mighty aid. Rudra’s sons, pouring rain and roaring like lions, generous in their deeds, are called upon. Band by band, troop by troop, with good praises, the seekers approach Agni’s brilliance and the strength of the Maruts. The givers of rain, wise and spotted-horsed, come to the sacrifice, gathering in the assemblies. Agni speaks: “By birth, I am Agni, knower of all births. Ghee is my vision, immortality my seat. The hymn is my triple abode, and I move through the realms. My warmth is unaging, and offering is my name.” With three purifying filters, Agni approached the sun, knowing its light with heart and mind. By his own powers, he created the most precious treasure, and heaven and earth beheld him in awe. He, the wise father of speech, flows with a hundred streams, delighting in the lap of his parents. The two worlds cherish him, the true-spoken one. Now, the givers of strength are called upon with offerings and clarified butter; the one who brings joy seeks the favor of the gods. Agni, the wise, is praised with words—the accomplisher of sacrifice, attentive and thoughtful. With Agni's help, the mighty god, the people seek to overcome hostility and pass beyond hatred. Agni, shining and worthy of praise, is kindled in the ritual; his flames are his hair. Immortal Agni, broad-footed, cleansed with clarified butter, is invoked with offerings, carrying oblations in the sacrifice. Those who strive together, with proper implements and devotion, have established Agni for worship. The immortal god, the priest, advances skillfully in front, urging on the rituals. Honored among the strong, Agni is led forth in the rituals; the sage is the accomplisher of sacrifice. By thought, he created the most excellent, placing the embryo of beings—the father of skill and offspring. The radiant one is placed with skill, prayer, and strength; Agni, the opener of paths, shines forth. The wise kindle Agni, the guide and helper, in union with immortality, with strength and offerings. Agni, son of strength, shines in the ritual, on the altar, possessing the wisdom of a sage. He is praised and honored, the remover of darkness, the visible one; Agni, the mighty, is kindled together. Like a horse bearing the gods, mighty Agni is kindled, and those with offerings praise him. The mighty kindle the mighty Agni, with mighty ones, asking him to shine forth greatly. Agni is called to accept the offering, the sacrificial cake, as the knower of births, at the morning pressing, with prayer. The sacrificial cake, baked and prepared, is for Agni—the youngest one, who is asked to accept it with favor. Agni is invited to the sacrificial cake offered to him, hidden through the day, son of strength, set in the rite. At the midday pressing, the knower of all births, the sage, is asked to accept the sacrificial cake, and the wise do not diminish Agni’s share in the assemblies. At the third pressing, Agni is called to the sacrificial cake, offered to the son of strength; with insight, he is to place the rich rite among the immortal gods, ever wakeful. Agni, ever-growing and knower of all births, is asked to accept the offering hidden through the day. Here is the churning stick, and the act of generation is accomplished; the mistress of the house is brought forth, and Agni is churned as in former times. Placed between the two pieces of wood, the knower of all births, like an embryo cherished in pregnant women, Agni is praised day by day by the wakeful, by men with offerings. With understanding, the upright one is brought forth; swiftly, the vigorous one is born—the reddish pillar, shining strength, son of Ilā, generated in the path. At the place of Ilā, at the navel of earth, the knower of all births is placed for offering, for the sacrificial cake. Men churn the sage, the all-wise, the immortal, the well-formed; they generate Agni, the sign of sacrifice, the first and gracious, in the forefront. When Agni is churned with their arms, he shines forth like a swift, red horse in the woods; like the bright, unrestrained course of the Aśvins, he encircles the grass, burning it from the stone. Born, Agni shines—discerning, strong, inspired, praised by sages, liberal; the gods have set him in the rites as worthy of praise, all-knowing, bearer of offerings. Agni, the Hotar, sits in his own place, discerning, seating the sacrifice in the goodly womb. He worships the gods with offerings and grants strength to the great worshipper. Friends are urged to make the smoke strong, not to falter, but to strive for the prize; Agni, the slayer of foes and the mighty one, by whom the gods overcame the Dasyus, is invoked. This is Agni’s seat, the ritual place from which he was born and shone forth; knowing that, Agni is asked to sit and increase the songs. He is called the protector of the body, the divine embryo; when born, he becomes the desire of men. When Mātariśvan measured him in the mother, the outpouring of the wind became manifest in the course. Well churned, churned out, well placed, set down—the sage Agni is asked to perform the right rites and worship the gods for the worshipper. Mortals have generated the immortal, the tireless, the swift, the one with hidden jaws; the ten sisters, together, approach the born man, the vigorous one. Thus, Agni, the immortal, the wise, the radiant, is honored and praised, invoked in sacrifice and cherished by gods and men alike.