Upon the most excellent sacred grass, three revered goddesses are invited to sit, their presence honored by the careful preparation of the place and offerings. The grass is made pleasant for them, and the goddesses, with clarified butter, are called to accept the well-made offerings from humankind. Then, Tvaṣṭṛ, the divine craftsman, is invoked. When he adorned himself with beauty, he became associated with the Angirases, knowing the mysterious paths of the gods. Generous and a bestower of wealth, Tvaṣṭṛ is asked to grant riches to the supplicants. The Lord of the Forest, with his girdle, is called to lead the gods to the ritual, for he knows their paths. He is asked to make the offerings sweet, and Heaven and Earth are requested to carry forth the invocation. Next, Agni, the sacred fire, is entreated to bring Varuṇa for the offering, Indra from the heavens, and the Maruts from the midspace. All the worshipful, immortal gods are invited to sit upon the sacred grass, rejoicing together with the Svāhā call. Bṛhaspati, the lord of sacred speech, is remembered for when the first speech was sent forth and names were given. What was highest and most radiant among them was hidden within, set down by love. The wise purified speech, as with a sieve, shaping it with their minds. Here, friends recognize the bonds of friendship, and auspicious beauty adorns their speech. Through sacrifice, seekers followed the path of speech, finding her among the seers. They took her up and distributed her in many places, and the seven singers joined together in her. Yet, one may look and not see speech, or listen and not hear it—it reveals itself only to those worthy, as a radiant, well-clad wife to her husband. Steadfast friendship is praised; those who are true to their companions are not harmed, even among rivals. The cow of speech wanders by illusion, and some hear speech that is fruitless and flowerless. He who abandons his companion has no share in speech; even if he hears, it is in vain, for he does not know the path of virtue. Friends with eyes and ears become unequal in the swift course of the mind. Some, like those who have bathed, seem close; others, like those at the edge of a pool, appear distant. When friends unite with the heart, shaped by the speed of mind, as Brahmins, they separate with knowledge, moving among each other. There are those who neither come near nor go far, neither Brahmins nor makers of Soma. Approaching speech with evil, they weave a web of error, ignorant of offspring. Yet all rejoice in the fame that comes, friends with friends in the assembly. Those who remove sin and nourish others receive undying benefits, even among competitors. Speech nourishes the growth of hymns, and the Gāyatra is sung among the Śakvarī verses. The Brahmin speaks the knowledge of birth, measuring the meter of sacrifice. Now, with insight, the origins of the gods are declared. Among the praised hymns, whoever sees in the later age may know. Bṛhaspati shaped these, as a smith with his tools. In the earlier age of the gods, from non-being, being was born. In the first age, from non-being, being emerged. Then the regions were born, and the upraised space was spread. The earth was born from the upraised space, and the regions came forth. From Aditi, Dakṣa was born; from Dakṣa, Aditi was spread. Aditi was indeed born, and Dakṣa, her daughter, was born from her. The gods were born from Aditi, blessed and kin to immortality. When the gods stood in the waters, deeply stirred, a sharp dust was swept away, as if dancing. When the gods, ascetics, filled the worlds, hidden in the ocean, they carried the sun. Eight sons of Aditi were born from her body. The gods went with seven, casting out Mārtāṇḍa. With seven sons, Aditi returned to the earlier age; for offspring and death, she brought Mārtāṇḍa again. A mighty one was born for strength and power, delightful and vigorous, full of pride. The Maruts increased Indra, when the mother placed the hero in her womb. Those who sit in ambush, even with cunning devices, grew strong by praising Indra; but like a woman in labor, they were delivered from darkness by his mighty stride, and their offspring came forth. Indra’s feet are exalted when he sets out to conquer, and even the powerful grow with him. He struck down a thousand Sālāvṛkas, and with the Aśvins increased in might. With united purpose, Indra hastens to the sacrifice, bearing the two Aśvins as friends. In two vessels, Indra holds a thousand, and the heroic Aśvins grant generous gifts. Rejoicing in truth, for the sake of offspring, Indra and his companions seek the desired goal. With these powers, he approached the Dasyu with magic, and the red mists fell away from obstacles. Even those with ancient names, the dwellers, Indra cast down, as he drives away dawns. With seers and companions, eager and intent, he struck down the hostile. Indra struck down Namuci and Makhasyu, the Dāsa who devised deceit against the seer, making pleasant paths for Manu as one smooths the way for chariots. Indra surpassed all in name and power, placing dominion in his grasp. The gods rejoice in his strength, and he subdued the deep-rooted forests. When his wheel was set in the waters, a honeyed covering was spread for him. Whatever is fixed on earth, whatever milk is in the cows, Indra placed in the plants. Some say, “He came from the horse,” or “He was born of strength,” imagining him thus. Anger came forth and stood in the dwellings, from which Indra was born and knows his origin. Winged birds and noble-minded seers approach Indra, never failing in devotion. They pray: remove the darkness, grant us sight, release us as one unbinds the bound from a treasure. Whether one praises the treasures, seeks with thought, or offers sacrifices to the two worlds, whether one calls upon the swift ones who possess wealth in battle, or those renowned for generous hearing, the mighty among them calls upon the sky, approaching the earth with glorious mind. Where the gods act for well-being, heaven, with its own powers, makes room. This song is for those immortals who grant treasure to the humble. May they, who accomplish both thought and sacrifice, bestow upon us the wealth of the Vasus without delay. To that distant place, the sons of Indra strive, wishing to cross the wide, cow-rich expanse. Many sons, in a single effort, seek to milk the great, thousand-streamed, mighty one. Like Śacī, make Indra your helper—unconquered, subduing the hostile in battle. The generous, bountiful, well-praised Maghavan wields the mighty, manly thunderbolt. Thus, through sacred invocation, the origins and deeds of the gods are honored, their powers celebrated, and their blessings sought for all who approach them with reverence and devotion.