In the ancient days, the wise ones, with well-laid sacred grass, fixed their thoughts upon Soma, seeking great strength and undying fame. Soma, the heroic essence, inspired them to acts of valor and heroism. This revered, nourishing essence of heaven flowed down from the vast sky, and when Indra was born, the gods lifted their voices in song, celebrating the arrival of strength. Soma’s purified might encompassed both the worlds and all beings, standing firm among the hosts like a mighty bull. Purified in an unfailing vessel, Soma was playful as a child, ever-flowing, like the rolling dice—each drop a thousand streams, each stream bearing a hundred prizes. This honey-sweet, purified wave flowed for Indra, true to its nature, knowing the paths to strength and the wide expanse beyond. Soma, ever-purifying, overcame all that was hostile, dispelled demons, and broke through strongholds. With his own weapon, he conquered the enemies. Radiant and shining, purified by the tawny ones, Soma overcame all hostilities with his own power, just as the sun overcomes darkness with its rays. The stream of pressed Soma shone, circling through all forms with his seven-mouthed hymns. He, who knows the wealth of the merchants, cleanses it in his own abode, together with the mothers, guided by thoughts of truth. Like a song heard from afar, where many thoughts contend, Soma established his radiance with the three-colored, tawny ones. He journeyed toward the ancient region, striving with his rays, his divine chariot visible to all. Hymns rose up, exalting Indra for victory, and Soma became the thunderbolt, unfailing in battle. Amidst the diversity of human thoughts and vows—the carpenter shaping the chariot, the healer tending wounds, the priest longing to press Soma for Indra—Soma flowed forth. Even the smith, with stones and golden metals, and those using aged herbs and leaves, all desired to press Soma for Indra. The poet, the healer, the gatherer, the splitter, the announcer—all stood together, seeking wealth, calling Soma to flow for Indra. The horse drew the pleasant chariot, companions laughed, and even the frog in the water joined in the desire to press Soma for Indra. Let Indra, the slayer of Vritra, drink Soma at the Sharyanavati, drawing strength and preparing for great heroism. Soma was called to flow for Indra from the eastern region, pressed with truth, faith, and austerity. The daughter of the sun brought forth the mighty one, grown by Parjanya; the Gandharvas received him and placed the essence in Soma. Soma, king, fashioned by the creator, spoke and acted in truth, his juices flowing together, purified by hymns. Where the priest recited the metrical speech, Soma was exalted with the stone, and with Soma came joy. The devotee prayed to be placed where the light is eternal, in the world where heaven is established, in the world of immortality. The prayer continued: "Where King Yama dwells, where the enclosure of heaven is, where the rivers flow—there make me immortal. Where there is free movement in the triple heaven, where the worlds are full of light, where desires and fulfilled desires reside, where sustenance and satisfaction abound, where joys and delights are found—there make me immortal. O Soma, flow for Indra." He who follows the path of the flowing Soma is called well-born. Soma, with wisdom, flowed around Indra. Kashyapa, with hymns composed by sages, exalted Angiras, and Soma, king of plants, was revered. Seven directions with their suns, seven priests as ritual officiants—Soma was invoked to protect with the seven Adityas. With his royal, purified offering, Soma was called to shield the people, to let no adversary cross nor harm come, as he flowed around Indra. At the dawn of creation, the mighty one—Agni—stood upright among the Dawns, driving away darkness and bringing forth light. Shining with radiant form, Agni was born and reached all dwellings. Born as the embryo of earth and heaven, Agni was beautiful, carried in the plants, the brilliant child crying above the mothers, casting away the darkness. Vishnu, knowing the highest, was also born, mighty and guarding the third realm. When his milk was prepared, the wise worshipped him with devotion. Agni, whom the nourishing mothers approached with food, grew and moved with their nourishment, returning in many forms, always the priest among humans. Agni was the priest with the splendid chariot, the sign of sacrifice, shining with divine glory, the honored guest among the people. He adorned himself as the navel of the earth, and at the foot of Ilā, was born bright, chief priest and king, ruling the gods. Heaven and earth nurtured Agni as a son does his mothers, and he shone forth, bringing the gods with his might. Agni, the youngest and shining one, satisfied the gods, knowing the seasons and the right times for worship. He was the most worshipful among the divine priests, the purifier of the people, giver of wealth, righteous and true. With the sacred cry of 'svāhā,' offerings were made, and Agni, the god, worshipped the gods, worthy of the highest honor. Those who walked the path of the gods did so as best they could, guided by Agni, the knowing priest, who arranged the sacrifices and the seasons. When mortals, less wise, strayed from the vows, Agni filled all, arranging the gods according to the seasons. Even when mortals, with weak minds and lacking skill, neglected the sacrifice, Agni, as priest, knowing the power, remained the most worshipful, ensuring the gods were honored in due time. Thus, through Soma and Agni, the hymns and sacrifices flowed—seeking strength, immortality, protection, and light—uniting gods and mortals in the eternal cycle of praise and offering.