In the beginning, before anything else existed, there arose the Golden Embryo—Hiraṇyagarbha—alone and resplendent. He became the sole lord of all that would be born, upholding the earth below and the heavens above. To this primal being, the question arises: to which god should we offer our oblation? With reverence, the offering is prepared for Prajāpati, the Lord of Creatures, accompanied by the upayāma. The vessel of offering is accepted with delight, its very womb representing the greatness of the sun. The majesty that came to Prajāpati through the passage of the year, through the wind that fills the midspace, and through the sun shining in the sky—all this greatness is invoked and offered to Prajāpati and the gods, with the utterance of svāhā. He, the one who alone is king over all that moves and all that stands still, whose greatness is manifest in the breath and in the blinking of eyes—he who rules over all beings, whether on two feet or four—again, to which god should our offering be made? Once more, with the upayāma, the offering is raised for Prajāpati and accepted with delight. The vessel’s womb is now likened to the moon, and its greatness is found in the night, in the cycling of the year, in the fire upon the earth, in the stars, and in the moon itself. To this vast greatness of Prajāpati, to the gods, we offer svāhā. The bright and ruddy one—the sun—is yoked, moving in its circuit around those who stand still, while the lights shine in the sky. His desirable, tawny horses, their manes full and flowing, are yoked to the chariot: red, bold, and bringing men along their path. When the wind, the waters, and Agni have gone forth, the beloved form of Indra is revealed. O singer, by this sacred path, bring back the horse to us once more. May the Vasus anoint you with the Gāyatrī meter; may the Rudras anoint you with the Triṣṭubh; may the Ādityas anoint you with the Jagatī. Bhūr, Bhuvaḥ, Svar—may the grains, the fried barley, and the milk be yours. This is food—O gods, partake of this nourishment; O Prajāpati, eat this food. Questions arise: Who indeed moves alone? Who is born again? What is the remedy for this cold, and what is the great covering? The sun moves alone; the moon is born again. Agni is the remedy for the cold, and the earth is the great covering. What was the former intention, the great strength, the pilippilā, and the piśaṅgilā? Heaven was the former intention; the horse was the great strength. The ram was the pilippilā, and night was the piśaṅgilā. May Vāyu protect you with the cooked offering, with black-necked goats, with nyagrodha bowls, and with the growth of the śalmali tree. This is the chariot’s bull, come with four feet. May the black Brahman protect us. Salutations to Agni. The chariot is bound with the rein, as is the horse. In the waters, among all that is born of water, abides the Brahman, foremost among those who offer Soma. Fashion your own form as a steed; sacrifice by yourself and accept by yourself. Your greatness is not diminished by another. Truly, you do not die nor perish; you go by these good paths of the gods. Where the doers of good reside, where your people have gone before, there may the god Savitṛ place you. Agni was the animal; with him, the sacrifice was performed, and he conquered that world. Wherever Agni is, that world shall be yours; you will conquer it, and drink its waters. Vāyu was the animal; with him, the sacrifice was performed, and he conquered that world. Wherever Vāyu is, that world shall be yours; you will conquer it, and drink its waters. Sūrya was the animal; with him, the sacrifice was performed, and he conquered that world. Wherever Sūrya is, that world shall be yours; you will conquer it, and drink its waters. Svāhā to Prāṇa, svāhā to Apāna, svāhā to Vyāna. O mother, Ambikā, Ambālikā, let no one lead me away. May the fortunate horse go to the woman of Kāmplavā, who brings prosperity. We invoke you, lord of hosts, beloved lord of the beloved, lord of treasures. O Vasu, be mine. I was born as the bearer of the embryo; you too were born as the bearer of the embryo. Let both of you, with four feet, stride forth together; may you expand in the heavenly world. May the bull, the stallion, the seed-bearer, deposit the seed. Lower the hidden part from its seat; let the bull move it to its rightful place. He is the life-sustaining food of women. With enigmatic words—Yakāsakau, śakuntikāhalag—thus he deceives. He strikes in the womb of the animal, sounding ‘nigalgalīti,’ as the holder. Yako, asakau, śakuntaka, āhalag—again, thus he deceives. As if wishing to speak, your mouth, O Adhvaryu, do not address us much. Your mother and father are at the tip of the growing tree. ‘Pratilāmīti,’ your father pressed his fist in the womb. Your mother and father are playing at the tip of the tree. As if wishing to speak, your mouth, O Brahman, do not speak much to us. Lift her upward, as if carrying a burden up a mountain; then let her middle part grow, as if purified by a cool wind. Lift him upward, as if carrying a burden up a mountain; then let his middle part move, as if purified by a cool wind. When her amniotic membranes thicken and settle, her testicles move like the ankles of a cow. When the gods revealed the ornamented one, broad-hipped, she is directed by her thigh, like the eye-sockets of truth. When the deer eats barley, he does not feel nourished as cattle do. When a Śūdra is the lover of an Arya woman, he does not aim for prosperity. When the deer eats barley, he does not feel greatly nourished. When a Śūdra is the lover of an Arya woman, he does not consider it nourishment. I have made Dadhikrāvan, the victorious and swift horse. May his mouth be fragrant for us; may he carry us across to long life. May Gāyatrī, Triṣṭubh, Jagatī, Anuṣṭubh, and Paṅkti, along with Bṛhatī, Uṣṇih, Kakubh, and the Sūcī verses, calm you. May the two-footed, four-footed, three-footed, and six-footed, the irregular and the regular metres, with the Sūcī verses, calm you. May the great and splendid, all directions, the mighty, and the voices like clouds and lightning, with the Sūcī verses, calm you. May your wives, O man, part your hair with wisdom; may the wives of the gods, the directions, with the Sūcī verses, calm you. Silver, antelopes, lead, and yokes are joined together by action. Let the boundaries and the straps on the horse’s skin be bound, let them be bound. Perhaps those who possess barley, even the barley itself, as it is crushed in turn, here—make food for them, those who worship the sacred grass and utter words of homage. Who cuts you, who commands you, who binds your limbs? Who, indeed, is your binder, O sage? Let the seasons, the joints of the seasons, and the binders command; with the energy of the year, with bindings, let them bind you. Thus, from the birth of the Golden Embryo through the mysteries of sacrifice, the yoking of the horse, the cycles of nature, and the sacred rituals, the story of creation, offering, and cosmic order unfolds—each being, each element, each act woven into the great tapestry of existence, upheld by Prajāpati and the gods.