In the ancient time of the sacred ritual, all of creation gathered in reverence for the divine Soma, the life-giving essence pressed for mighty Indra. The herbs, aged and full of wisdom, offered their strength; the leaves of birds fluttered in the air; the skilled smith worked with stones, and the golden, heavenly ones shone with desire—all yearning to press Soma for Indra’s sake. “O Soma, flow for Indra,” rose the prayer, echoing through the world. Among those present, one proclaimed: “I am the poet who gives voice to the hymn, the healer who brings comfort, the gatherer who collects, the splitter who divides, and the announcer who proclaims. Our minds are many, each seeking wealth and fulfillment, standing together like cows in a herd, united in purpose. O Soma, flow for Indra.” The horse, swift and powerful, drew the pleasant chariot, accompanied by laughter and companionship. Its hairy tail flicked, the two breakers thundered, and even the frog in the water joined in the desire to press Soma for Indra. “O Soma, flow for Indra,” the refrain continued. At the sacred river Sharyanavati, the wish was for Indra, the slayer of Vritra, to drink Soma, to draw strength into himself and prepare for great heroic deeds. “O Soma, flow for Indra.” Soma was called to flow forth, to fly from the eastern region, pressed with the word of truth, with faith and austerity. “O Soma, flow for Indra.” The daughter of the sun, radiant and pure, brought forth the mighty Soma, nurtured by Parjanya’s rain. The Gandharvas, celestial musicians, received him and placed the essence within Soma. “O Soma, flow for Indra.” Soma, kingly and fashioned by the creator, spoke truth, possessed the glory of truth, acted in reality, and performed deeds of faith. “O Soma, flow for Indra.” From the fierce and mighty one, truth flowed; the juices of Soma mingled together, their essences purified by the hymn. The tawny Soma, radiant and strong, was invoked: “O Soma, flow for Indra.” Wherever the priest recited the metrical speech, there Soma was exalted with the stone, and joy was produced with his presence. “O Soma, flow for Indra.” In the world where the light is eternal, where heaven is firmly established, the devotee prayed, “Place me, purified one, in the world of immortality, unperishing. O Soma, flow for Indra.” Where King Yama resides, where the enclosure of heaven stands, where the rivers flow in purity—there the prayer rose: “Make me immortal. O Soma, flow for Indra.” Where there is free movement, in the triple heaven and sky, in the worlds filled with light, the yearning was, “There make me immortal. O Soma, flow for Indra.” Where desires and their fulfillment dwell, where the radiant one's realm is, where sustenance and satisfaction abound—“There make me immortal. O Soma, flow for Indra.” Where joys and delights, happiness and great happiness are found, and all desires are attained—“There make me immortal. O Soma, flow for Indra.” He who follows the paths of the flowing Soma is called well-born. “Soma, with your wisdom, flow around Indra, O Indu.” Kashyapa, with hymns composed by sages, exalted Angiras. “Let us revere Soma, the king, lord of the plants; flow around Indra, O Indu.” The seven directions, each with their own sun, and the seven priests as ritual officiants—“O Soma, protect us with those seven gods, the Adityas; flow around Indra, O Indu.” With your royal, purified offering, “O Soma, protect us; let no adversary cross us, let nothing harm us; flow around Indra, O Indu.” At the very beginning, 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. This brilliant child cried out above the mothers, casting away the darkness. Thus, Vishnu, knowing the highest, was born, mighty and guarding the third realm. When the wise prepared his milk, they worshipped him with their own offerings. Agni, whom the nourishing mothers approached with food, grew and moved with their nourishment, returning in many forms. He became the priest among human tribes. He was the priest with the splendid chariot, the sign of sacrifice, shining with divine glory, the guest of the people. Clad in garments and adornments, Agni stood as the navel of the earth. Born bright at the foot of Ilā, he was chief priest, king, and ruler of the gods. Both heaven and earth nurtured Agni as a son does his mothers. “Come forth, O youngest, shining one, and bring the gods here with your might.” “Feed the gods, O youngest, shining one, lord of seasons, knowing the times; worship here, Agni, most worshipful among divine priests.” “You are the priest and purifier of the people, giver of wealth, righteous one. With ‘svāhā’ let us make offerings; Agni, worthy of honor, worship the gods.” “We have come upon the path of the gods; let us proceed as best we can. Agni, knowing, let him worship, let him be the priest, arranging sacrifices and seasons.” “When we transgress your vows, O gods, less wise than the wise, Agni fills all and arranges the gods with the seasons.” “When mortals, weak-minded and unskilled, neglect the sacrifice, Agni, the priest, knowing the power, is most worshipful and worships the gods according to the seasons.” Agni was the visible sign of all sacrifices, the splendid banner created by the divine. “So worship, following the noble ones, seeking abundant, universal gifts.” Agni was produced by heaven and earth, by the waters, by Tvashtar, and by the well-born. “Following the ancestral path, O Agni, shining one, blaze forth.” The king, Agni, was kindled, fierce for skill, radiant and visible, wise and brilliant, praised as the white one. When the dark night, by her own form, gave birth to the young dawn, daughter of the great father, she raised the sun’s radiance upward. With the treasures of heaven, delight shone forth. The fortunate one joined the fortunate; the lover approached his sister from behind. Agni stood with clear signs, with heavenly colors, taking his place in beauty. His movements, like those of the great, were not hidden; Agni’s companions, the auspicious, were kindled. The noble, the mighty, the praised—his breaths shone, moving in the night with varied brightness. His breaths, like those of the resounding, flowed forth, shining, great, and radiant; with the eldest, strongest, playful, and most abundant rays, he did no harm to the sky. His powers were seen, not concealed, striving with resounding helpers; with ancient, shining, divine ones, delight spread widely. He would carry us and sit with us, delight of heaven and earth, youthful Agni, well-born, with swift horses. “Let the swift come here.” “I offer to you, Agni, I send forth my thought, so that you may be worthy of our praise in the offerings. Like water in the desert, you are the source for the worshipper, ancient king.” Thus, in the sacred assembly, Soma and Agni were revered, their glory flowing through the worlds, bestowing immortality, light, and joy upon all creation.