Agni, the sacred fire, was brought forth by the mothers, the gods, and the Angirases—emerging as a sage, immortal, and the divine bearer of offerings. Established by the wise as the chosen messenger, Agni stands ever ready to carry the gifts of mortals to the gods. Even when no cow is slain or no portion withheld, the devotee brings what he can to Agni with a pure heart. To you, Agni, whatever woods are laid upon your altar, accept them all, youngest and ever-youthful one. Even the morsels touched by the upajihvikā bird or traversed by the tiny ant—let all these be transformed into your sacred ghee. Whoever kindles you, O Agni, with focused mind and reverent thought, joins the radiant ones in your praise. Agni, the best knower of the paths, in whom the sacred laws abide, reveals himself to those who seek him. To this noble-born increaser, the hymns of the devoted are directed. As the son of Divodāsa, you have drawn the gods toward us, O Agni, spreading over your mother, the earth, and standing tall on the summit of the sky. Peoples tremble before you, O Agni, and those who praise you are filled with awe. Honor Agni with your thoughts, for he is the possessor of a thousand treasures. Whomever you, generous one, wish to enrich—whomever among mortals serves you—gains a heroic son, a singer of hymns, and a nourisher of many by his very nature. Through your favor, the devotee overcomes strongholds, wins prizes with his steed, and attains unfailing fame. In you, ever-youthful god, we seek all that is desirable. You, the giver of all treasures, delightful priest of the people, receive the first vessels of honey—our praises are offered to you, Agni. Like swift horses yoked to a chariot, the generous and godly youths are stirred by songs in your honor. Mighty lord of all, grant us offspring and descendants, and bestow upon us the wealth of the generous. Sing to the most exalted, the great upholder of order, the radiant-shining one; let our praises reach Agni. Agni, famed for heroes, comes eagerly when kindled and invoked with splendor. May his newest favor, rich in blessings, come to us. Praise the dearest, most beloved guest—Agni, the guide of chariots. He rises and sets, knows all wealth, and is worthy of sacrifice; for the wise, the paths to him are never hard to cross. Let not Agni, the generous and much-praised guest, ever turn away from us. He is the good priest who performs proper rites. Let no harm come to you, Agni, from our true words, O generous one—not even from other gods. Even the poor seek you as messenger, you who are invoked and perform the sacred rites. Agni, come with the Maruts and the Rudras to drink the Soma. Rejoice in our good praise, O bringer of light, together with your household. Now, Soma, the sacred and exhilarating drink, begins to flow. Pressed for Indra, Soma streams forth with a most pleasant and exhilarating rush. The destroyer of demons, Soma, all-pervading among men, returns to his place of origin and settles in the wooden vessel. Become vast and mighty, O Soma, slayer of Vṛtra, and grant the wealth of the generous. Flow forth to the assembly of the great gods, O exhilarating one, bringing us strength and fame. To you, O Indu, we come day after day, placing our hopes in you. The daughter of the sun purifies your flowing stream with her constant garment, while ten maidens, like sisters, grasp you together in the distant sky. The unbending ones press you, blowing forth your sweet strength—the triple-layered, honeyed draught. Unyoked cows strain you, Soma the calf, for Indra to drink. In his exhilaration, Indra slays all his foes, rejoicing in the gifts. Soma, flow on with divine power through the filter, O delightful one, and come, strong bull, into Indra’s company. Pour forth your great stream, mighty and glorious Soma, and enter your eternal abode. The streams of the pressed, inspired Soma have milked the beloved honey, and you, wise one, have pervaded the waters. Great rivers follow you, the mighty one, when you are adorned with cows. The ocean cleanses itself in the waters, pillar and support of the sky; Soma, purified in the filter, is eager. The mighty, tawny one roars—vast and unseen like Mitra—shining together with the sun. By your power, O Indu, our songs are purified, and you adorn yourself for exhilaration. For your exhilaration, we seek you, swift creator of worlds, whose praises are great. For us, O Indu, pour out the honeyed draught for Indra with your stream, like a rain-filled cloud. O Indu, you are rich in cows, in men, in horses, in strength; you are the ancient soul of the sacrifice. Thus, the offerings to Agni and the flowing of Soma intertwine—their praises rising together, sustaining the gods, the world, and all who offer with a pure and devoted heart.