Let the beings proclaim with awe: Agni, the slayer of Vṛtra, has been born—he who wins wealth, conquering again and again in battle. O Agni, divine one, harness your swift and noble horses, those who eagerly carry the offerings to their destination. Come to us, O carrier of sacrifices, choosing the best paths, that we may enjoy your favor and bring the gods together for the drinking of Soma. O Agni, shine forth, O Bhārata, with an unfailing brilliance like lightning; blaze ever bright, undecaying, illuminating all. For the one who presses Soma, the mortal does not desire mere words; drive away envy, just as the Bhṛgus drove the sacrifice from the faithless dog. Born at night, the twin appeared, like a son at the breast of his parents; he moved swiftly, like a suitor approaching maidens, and settled in the womb. That hero, skillful and accomplished, upheld the two worlds—Hari, protected in purity, and the Creator did not settle in a womb. O Indra, you are without brother or kin since birth; in battle, you strive to surpass even your own father. You do not find the wealthy fit for friendship; your splendid horses drink at your call, and you are invoked as a father at the beginning of gatherings. A thousand, a hundred tawny-haired steeds, yoked to the golden chariot and joined with hymns, O Indra, let them bring you for the drinking of Soma. Let your tawny horses, with peacock-like tails and dappled backs, draw you on the golden chariot for the sweet, pressed juice. Drink this Soma, O lover of song, as one who drinks first, of the well-prepared, flowing draught; this outpouring is offered for your delight. Let the pourers pour forth the hymn like a swift horse, powerful, traversing spaces, surging ahead and breaking through the woods. The thousand-streamed bull, the milk-giver, beloved for the birth of gods, who grew by truth, born of truth—the king, the god, the great truth. Agni has struck down obstacles; the bringer of wealth, shining, kindled, bright, is invoked with skill. In the womb of mother and father, the father sits, flashing, in the imperishable, settling in the source of truth. O Jātavedas, bring forth prayers rich in offspring, O wise Agni, as you shine in the sky. His swift, golden, purified juice, pressed with the gods, circles the filter, resounding like cattle in the house—the Hotṛ priest. Wearing auspicious garments together, the great sage, praising with words, is proclaimed, purified in the vessel, wise and ever watchful in the service of the gods. Beloved, he is cleansed on the mountain slope, the most glorious among the glorious, established among us; purified, resounding over the earth—may you always protect us with blessings. Now let us praise Indra, pure, with pure song and pure hymns, grown strong; let him accept pure blessings. Indra, pure, come to us; pure, with pure aids; pure, bestow wealth; pure, delight in the Soma. Indra, pure, grant us wealth; pure, give treasures to the worshipper; pure, strike down obstacles; pure, seek the prize. Agni, we desire the hymn, swift today, touching the sky, the favor of the god’s wealth. May Agni accept our songs, he who is the priest among men; may he honor the divine assembly. O Agni, renowned and chosen as the worthy priest, through you the sacrifice spreads. The voices have praised the mighty, threefold, youthful one, shining, adorned with forests, like Varuṇa among rivers, who grants treasures and desirable gifts. O powerful leader, all-heroic, strong and victorious—flow forth, bring us wealth; sharp-armed, swift-bowed, conquer enemies in battle, mighty among warriors. With wide protection, creating fearlessness, flow forth together, O Purandhi, seeking waters; dawns, heavenly, resound and grant us great prizes. You, Indra, are renowned, lord of strength; you alone destroy formidable foes, uphold the people, and surpass all in ancient deeds. Now, O wise Asura, we seek you as our share of wealth, like a vast skin; Indra, let your favor reach us for shelter. We have chosen you, the most worshipful god, as the immortal priest among the gods, wise in this sacrifice. To the offspring of waters, gracious, radiant Agni, of excellent flame—may he grant us the favor of Mitra and Varuṇa, and the blessing of the waters in heaven. O Agni, whom you protect among mortals in contests, whom you aid in prizes, he attains lasting riches. No one can withstand his strength or surpass him; even the least receives a prize worthy of fame. May the prize be won by all peoples with horses, may it be seized by sages, may it be the bringer of wealth. Together, the ten sisters, thoughts of the wise, cleanse; the bowstrings, the tawny one runs around the vessel of the sun, like a steed at the prize. Like a calf with its mothers, the mighty one, bearing many gifts, moves with waters; like a youth among women, he goes forth, the vessel with the cows. The wise Soma flows forth, joining with streams, filling the udder; cows sprinkle the head with milk in the vessels, as treasures are poured out. Drink the pressed juice, delight in it, O Indra, rich in cows; be our ally in the shared feast, may your thoughts support us.