In the sacred rituals, Agni, the immortal one with broad feet, is invoked with offerings of clarified butter, his cleansing essence. He is the carrier of oblations, moving through the sacrifice, accepting what is given with reverence. Those who strive together, equipped with proper implements and deep devotion, establish Agni for worship, setting him at the heart of their ceremony. Agni, the immortal god and priest, advances skillfully at the forefront, urging on the rituals and guiding their progress. Among the strong, he is honored as the strongest, led forth in the rites; the sage who accomplishes the sacrifice. By thought, he created the most excellent, placing the seed of all beings, the father of skill and offspring. With skill, prayer, and strength, Agni is placed, radiant and excellent, the opener of paths. The wise kindle him, the guide and helper, uniting with immortality, strength, and offerings. Agni, the son of strength, shines in the ritual upon the altar, possessing the wisdom of a sage. He is praised and honored, the remover of darkness, the visible one, mighty and kindled together. Mighty Agni is kindled, like a horse bearing the gods, and those with offerings praise him. The mighty kindle him with mighty ones, calling 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 and wisdom. The sacrificial cake, baked and prepared, is for him; the youngest one is asked to accept it with favor. Agni is invited to come to the sacrificial cake offered to him, hidden through the day, set in the rite as the son of strength. At the midday pressing, Agni, knower of all births and sage, is asked to accept the sacrificial cake, with the wise ensuring his share is never diminished in the assemblies. At the third pressing, Agni is called again to the sacrificial cake, offered to the son of strength; then, with insight, he places 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. The ritual begins anew: the churning stick is brought forth, the act of generation accomplished. The mistress of the house is invoked, and Agni is churned as in former times. Placed between two pieces of wood, Agni, the knower of all births, is cherished like an embryo within pregnant women. Day by day, the wakeful men, with offerings, praise him. With understanding, the upright one is brought forth swiftly; the vigorous Agni is born, the reddish pillar, shining strength, the son of Ilā, generated in the path. At the place of Ilā, at the navel of the earth, Agni is placed for the 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, at the forefront. When they churn him with their arms, he shines forth like a swift, red horse in the woods, encircling the grass and burning it from the stone, like the bright, unrestrained course of the Aśvins. 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, is asked to sit in his own place, discerning, seating the sacrifice in the goodly womb, worshipping the gods with offering, granting strength to the great worshipper. The friends are urged to make the smoke strong, not to falter, to strive for the prize, for this Agni is the slayer of foes, the mighty one by whom the gods overcame the Dasyus. Agni is asked to sit in his seat, from which he was born and shone forth, to 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, well placed, the sage Agni is set down to perform the right rites, worshipping the gods for the worshipper. Mortals generate the immortal, tireless, swift Agni, with hidden jaws; the ten sisters together approach the born man, the vigorous one. The sevenfold Hotar shines forth from ancient times, burning in the mother's lap, in the udder. He does not close his eyes, the bountiful one, day by day, since his birth from the belly of the mighty. Armed against foes like the Maruts, the first-born of sacred order, all know this. The radiant prayer is set forth by the Kuśikas; each one kindles Agni in his own house. As today, in this sacrifice, Agni is chosen as the wise Hotar, with devotion, invited to approach. With what is firm, and with the best offerings, knowing and understanding, he is called to approach the Soma. Now, the friends of Soma desire him; they press Soma and prepare offerings, enduring the curses of men. Indra, apart from you, no one is truly wise. Not even the farthest realms are distant from you; O Lord of the Bay Steeds, come forth with your horses. For the strong bull, these libations are prepared, the pressing stones are yoked, the fire is kindled. Indra, of beautiful beard, generous and mighty, leader of great hosts and powerful in deeds—when you, fierce one, are restrained among mortals, where are your heroic powers? For you alone, indeed, shake the unshaken; you roam, slaying the Vṛtras. Heaven and earth and the mountains stand firm as if by your law, as by a measuring rod. By your fame alone, O much-invoked, you have shattered the stronghold, being the slayer of Vṛtra. Even these two vast worlds you have grasped as your own possessions, O generous Indra. Let your bay steeds be released down the slope; let your thunderbolt go forth, crushing the foes. Strike down those who come from all directions, make all truth prevail, let what is false be destroyed. To whom you, O mortal, have given life, even the unoffered portion becomes his household share. Blessed is your favor, Indra, rich in ghee; O much-invoked, your bounty is a thousandfold.