In the earliest dawn, the Vasus emerged, radiant and firstborn, bringing light to the world and shining among the divine twins. In their devotion to truth, they set forth seven steps, and from themselves created Mitra, the embodiment of harmony. These Vasus became the very eye of all existence, guardians of truth, and when they moved for the sake of righteousness, they manifested as Varuṇa. Born of the waters, Jātavedas, they delighted as messengers in the sacred offerings. They led the sacrifice and ruled the realms, uniting with auspicious helpers. Their head was set high in the heavens, gleaming brightly, and as Agni, their tongue became the bearer of all offerings. Trita, guided by his own will, chose the middle space, seeking the shelter of both his father and the far-off one. Longing for kinship in the lap of his parents, the kinsman spoke and wielded the ancestral weapons. Knowing well these weapons, and stirred by Indra, the descendant of Āpti entered the fray. He struck down the formidable three-headed, seven-rayed being, liberating the cows of Tvaṣṭṛ, just as Trita had done. Indra, with overwhelming strength, defeated the one who thought himself invincible; he, the good lord, felled him. Even Tvaṣṭṛ, the all-shaped one, lost his three heads as Indra seized the cows. Then, a hymn to the waters arose: “Come, O waters, bringers of delight, and grant us nourishment. Bestow upon us vision and strength for the great contest.” Their most auspicious essence, like the love of mothers, was invoked to be shared. Approaching the waters, the singers prayed, “May you inspire us in your dwelling, O waters, and may you generate us anew.” They asked that the divine, blessing-rich waters be theirs for drinking, flowing always with well-being. The waters, mistresses of treasures and sustainers of peoples, were beseeched for their healing remedies. Within these waters, Soma spoke: all remedies reside therein, and Agni, the bringer of blessings, is present too. The prayer continued: “O waters, fill me with healing and protection for my body, and grant that I may see the sun for a long time. Carry away whatever evil or wrong I have done, whatever falsehood or curse may cling to me.” The supplicant mingled with the waters’ essence, calling Agni, full of milk, to grant radiance and not withdraw it. Seeking friendship and alliance, the devotee prayed to cross even the vast sea with a true companion. The wise one was asked to place the grandson of the father, shining, upon the earth as a bridge. Yet, it was said, no friend desires such marked friendship when forms differ. The sons of the great Asura, renowned throughout the world, sustain the vast expanse. Even the immortals praised this quality, even in a single mortal born on earth, but the prayer was that the mind of the powers not be set upon mortals, nor should they enter human bodies with desire. “Let us not repeat old errors or speak untruth, O immortals,” the hymn continued. In the waters dwell the Gandharva and the maiden, the very navel and highest kinship of mortals. In the womb, the creator made a couple—Kardama, Tvaṣṭṛ, and Savitṛ of manifold forms. None transgresses his ordinances; both earth and heaven know the vessel of his wisdom. Yet, who knows the first day of this creation? Who has seen it, or can declare it? The great ordinance of Mitra and Varuṇa remains a mystery. Desire once came to Yama’s sister, Yami, for Yama, to lie together in the same womb. She longed, stretching herself to him as a wife to her husband, wishing to join as a chariot’s wheel to its axle. But the divine spies, ever watchful, neither stood nor sat—they moved among mortals. Yama urged Yami: “Go to another who delights you and separate from me, as a wheel from its axle.” May night and day bring Yama favor, and may the sun’s eye rise again and again. By day and by earth, the twin siblings, Yami and Yama, should bear their kinship without transgression. The ages where siblings acted thus have passed; Yami was advised to seek a husband as her heart desired. Yet Yami pleaded: “What if a brother is left without support, or a sister falls into misfortune? I would fulfill this desire, though reproached—unite with me.” But Yama replied, “One should not unite body with body in this way; it is called sin to approach a sister. Find delight with another; your brother does not desire this.” Yami lamented: “Alas, Yama, we do not know your mind or heart. Another, like a co-wife, has embraced you, as a vine embraces a tree.” Yama responded: “Let another embrace you as a vine does a tree. Let your mind and his desire be joined; make understanding with him.” In the heavens, the mighty bull, by his power, milked the streams of heaven for the great one, the unassailable son of Aditi. Varuṇa, knowing all by his wisdom, was to be worshiped at the proper seasons. The Gandharva and the maiden in the waters were invoked to protect the mind from the river’s sound, and in the midst of all desired things, Aditi was asked to establish the singers, with the elder brother declaring for them. Ushas, the fortunate and rich in cattle and fame, shone for Manu, full of light. Obeying the will of the shining ones, she gave birth to Agni, the Hotar, for the assembly. Then the swift, far-seeing falcon brought the brilliant drop, inspired by the mighty, to the sacrifice. When noble people chose Agni as Hotar, the wise was born at the sacrifice. Agni was ever delightful, like a field thriving with barley, honored by men’s offerings. Whatever praise the inspired sought, Agni brought abundant strength and many gifts. The fathers were invoked to raise up the lover who comes for his share, as the eager one seeks the heart’s desire. The fire divided, the wise one watched the sacrifice, the mighty was praised, and the spirit trembled in awe. When a mortal won Agni’s favor, he was heard above others, becoming radiant and powerful, adorning the days with offerings borne by horses. When the assembly became divine among the gods, worshipful and worthy of sacrifice, and Agni distributed treasures, a share full of wealth was granted. “Agni, hear us in your dwelling and assembly; yoke the swift chariot of immortality. Bring us the two worlds, children of the gods, and let us not be far from the gods here.” Heaven and earth, from the beginning, became renowned by truth, speaking words of truth. When the god, making mortals for worship, sat as priest, he turned his spirit inward. This god, surpassing all by truth, the first and wise, was invoked to carry the offering. Agni, smoke-bannered and shining, sweet and eternal, the most worthy in speech, was honored as the priest of all.