In the ancient days, when time itself was shrouded in mystery, the question arose: Who among us knows the very first day? Who has seen its dawn, and who can declare its truth? The great ordinance of Mitra and Varuṇa, so profound, defies easy explanation to the people. Within this primordial world, a deep desire stirred in Yama’s sister, Yami, for her brother Yama. She longed to share the same womb, to unite as husband and wife. Like a wife stretching herself toward her husband, she wished to divide her body, separating herself as a chariot’s wheel does from its axle. Yet, among those present, none stood nor sat—they were the silent spies of the gods, moving unseen. Yama counseled Yami: “Go with another who delights you; separate yourself from me, as a wheel from its axle.” He prayed that night and day would bring her favor, and that the sun’s eye would rise again and again. By the day and by the earth, Yama and Yami, twin siblings, should honor their kinship without transgressing its bounds. He reminded her that the ages when siblings acted thus have passed. “Embrace the arm of a strong man; seek a husband as your mind desires, O fortunate one.” Yami, however, lamented: “What if a brother is left without support? What if a sister falls into misfortune? I would fulfill this desire, though others may reproach it; unite your body with mine.” But Yama firmly replied: “One should not unite body with body in this way; it is called sin when one approaches a sister. Find delight with another who pleases you. Your brother does not desire this, O fortunate one.” Yami grieved: “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 comforted her: “Let another embrace you as a vine embraces a tree. Let your mind desire him, and let him desire you. Make a good understanding with him.” In the heavens, the bull milked the streams of heaven for the mighty one, the unassailable son of Aditi. Varuṇa, wise and all-knowing, guided the worshipful to honor the proper seasons. May the Gandharva and the maiden in the waters protect the mind from the river’s sound. Amidst those who are desired, may Aditi establish us, and may our elder brother, the first, declare for us. Ushas, the fortunate and radiant, shone for Manu, full of light. Following the will of the shining ones, she gave birth to Agni, the Hotar, for the assembly. Then the falcon, swift and far-seeing, brought the brilliant drop, inspired by the mighty, to the sacrifice. When noble people choose Agni, the Hotar, the wise is born at the sacrifice. Agni is always delightful, like a field thriving with barley, honored by the offerings of men. Whatever praise the inspired one seeks, Agni brings abundant strength and many gifts. “Raise up, O fathers, the lover comes to the share; the eager one seeks the heart’s desire. The fire divides, the wise observes the sacrifice; the mighty one is praised, the spirit trembles at the thought.” When a mortal wins Agni’s favor, he is heard above others. Bearing offerings, drawn by horses, he becomes radiant and powerful, adorning the days. When the assembly becomes divine among the gods, worshipful and worthy of sacrifice, and when Agni, self-sustaining, distributes treasures, he grants a share full of wealth. “Hear us, Agni, in your dwelling and assembly; yoke the swift chariot of immortality. Bring us the two worlds, children of the gods; 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. The god, surpassing all by truth, the first and wise, carries our offering. The smoke-bannered, shining with kindling, sweet, the eternal priest, most worthy in speech. The immortal of the god, self-moving, when cows born of truth uphold the broad earth. All the gods follow the sacrifice; they milk the heavenly ghee when the bull calls it forth. “I praise you both to increase, O waters anointed with ghee, heaven and earth, listen to me, O two worlds. When you made the path of life, let our fathers be refreshed here with honey.” What king has seized us, when will he come? What law have we made, who truly knows? Even Mitra, offering to the gods, the hymn does not reach; perhaps there is no strength. Here the name of the immortal is difficult, marked with signs, taking many forms. Whosoever thinks well of Yama, O Agni, protect him, O swift one, from misfortune. In whom the gods rejoice in assembly, in the house of Vivasvat they are sustained. In the sun they placed the light, distributing the portions, ever shining as they move. In whom the gods move in thought, but we do not know his lower nature. Here Mitra, Aryaman, and the sinless Savitar, the god, spoke to Varuṇa. “Hear us, Agni, in your dwelling and assembly; yoke the swift chariot of immortality. Bring us the two worlds, children of the gods; let us not be far from the gods here.” I join your ancient hymn with praises; let the song go forth like a path for the sun. Let all the sons of immortality hear, all who have stood in the divine abodes. As Yama strove, when he went forth, so the worshippers, desiring the gods, have brought you. Sit down in your own world, knowing it; be at ease, like those who come to Indra. I follow the five steps of the form, I seek the four-footed by the vow. With the imperishable syllable I measure out these, up to the navel of immortality, I purify them together. For whom did he choose death from the gods, for whom did he not choose immortality for offspring? They made Brhaspati the priest of sacrifice, Yama desired his beloved form. Seven streams flow for the child of the Maruts; the sons have protected the father, the true one. Both, indeed, rule over both; both strive for both, both prosper in both. He who has departed along the great slopes, along the path well-trodden by many, to the meeting place of the people with Vaivasvata, to King Yama—honor him with offering. Yama was the first to discover for us the way; this pasture cannot be taken away. There our ancestors have gone before, each according to their proper path, born of righteousness. Mātalī with the wise, Yama with the Angiras, Bṛhaspati with the singers, have grown strong; those gods who have prospered, and those who delight in oblations and offerings. “O Yama, sit upon this sacred seat with the Angiras and the ancestors assembled; let the chants of the wise carry you here; rejoice, O King, in this offering.” “Come with the Angiras, O Yama, with those worthy of sacrifice; delight here with the radiant ones. I call upon Vivasvat, your father, who sits upon the sacrificial grass at this rite.” The Angiras, our ancestors, the Navagvas, the Atharvans, the Bhṛgus, those who are full of Soma—may we be in the good favor of these worthy ones, may we be in blessed harmony. Go forth, go forth by the ancient paths, where our ancestors have gone before; both kings, rejoicing in offerings, you will see—Yama and Varuṇa, the divine. Go together with the ancestors, go with Yama, with your fulfilled sacrifices and good deeds, to the highest heaven; leaving behind all faults, return again to the home; go together with your radiant form.