The inspired poets, ever alert and awake, gather together to celebrate the highest step of Viṣṇu. They kindle their hymns, seeking to glimpse that exalted stride which Viṣṇu has made upon the ridge of the earth. From that sacred place, they pray for the protection of the gods, and especially that Viṣṇu’s blessing may shelter them. With humility, they ask that neither Viṣṇu nor the sacrificer be displeased with them. Whether the gods are far or near, they invite them to attend the gathering and listen to their prayers. During the pressing of the Soma, the singers—longing for wealth—cluster around like bees at honey, calling upon Indra. They prepare themselves, placing their feet upon the chariot, ready to praise. The ancient hymn is offered up, its truth spoken forth to Brahman and to Indra. The great verses of truth follow, flowing from the heart and mind of the singer. Indra, delighted, shakes forth abundant wealth. The earth, the sun, the radiant deities, the givers of cows, and the Soma juices all join together to please Indra. Soma is poured out for Indra, the mighty slayer of Vṛtra, the skillful and generous god who sits upon his seat. The friends of Indra, along with the wise, pray to attain the fragrance of strength and the wealth of vigor. The tawny, bay-colored Soma steed is purified with water, and, filled with intoxication, he journeys to all the gods. Who among mortals, they wonder, could ever overcome Indra, the lord of abundant wealth? Only the strong, with faith, seek strength in the highest heaven. They call upon Indra, the generous one, to aid them in overcoming Vṛtra and to guide them, so that, with wisdom, they may cross all difficulties. The Adhvaryu priest pours out the exhilarating, honeyed Soma from the vessel, for the ever-growing hero is praised in this way. Indra, charioteer of the bay steeds, never abandons the ancient praise; he rises with irresistible might. The singers call upon Indra, the lord of strength, that he may be increased by the wise, those who never fail. The gods, with song, establish that radiant and undeceivable god as the bringer of offerings among the deities. Desiring abundant gifts, the inspired ones praise Agni, the brilliant-flamed charioteer, for his wisdom, for the Soma, and for the shining sacrifice and ancient rite. Soma, pressed by stones, flows freely, overcoming every barrier. Like a man taking his seat in a city, the tawny one settles in the woods. Cleansed, Soma passes beyond all lesser obstacles, like a victorious charioteer longing for strength, and the wise singers praise his flowing. They fill the mighty, armed one—Indra—with strength, and at the pressing, they bring forth the Soma for him, adorning it for the renowned one. Even the wolf, seeking protection, adorns himself along the paths; may Indra, delighted by praise, arrive with most splendid thought. Indra and Agni together adorn the shining realms of heaven with their strength—this is their heroic power. Prayers go forth to them, approaching along the paths of truth, for their seats and paths are established and their protection is certain. Yet, who can truly know for whom Indra and Agni drink together at the pressing? Who has placed them here—those who, with strength, shatter the forts and delight in the sweet Soma? Like generous beasts or mighty elephants, Indra and Agni roam unrestrained in many places, coming with great force to the Soma pressing. He who is fierce, well-armed, steadfast, and ready for battle—if the generous one hears the singer, let not Indra turn aside. The pure, flowing Somas stream forth, pervading all sacred works. From the sky, through the midspace, upon the ridge of the earth, the shining streams flow, destroying all hatreds. The singers call upon Indra and Agni, slayers of Vṛtra, ever victorious and unconquered, bestowers of strength. Skilled in hymns and guidance, the singers praise them, choosing Indra and Agni for wealth. Together, they once shook down ninety forts of the Dāsa women with a single deed. To Agni, radiant in form, they send forth their songs, praising his energy and power. They seek Agni’s shelter as one seeks the shade of the sun, trusting in his golden form for protection. Like a fierce archer, with sharp horns like a bull, Agni shatters the forts. They seek Viśvānar Agni, lord of truth and light, unceasing in his heat, for the ritual. He who spreads the sacrifice, the highest light of the ritual, releases the seasons at will. In beloved abodes, Agni shines alone in splendor with his kin, the desire of what has been and what will be. In the third eighth part, Agni of ancient birth, shining with his own form, has grown through the poet’s wisdom. Now, in this sacrifice and sacred rite, they call upon Agni, descendant of strength, with pure flames, to accept their offering and their praise.