As the vigor of the plants departs, just as cows leave their enclosure at dusk, the Purusha—divine person—remains ever-present, the very self of those who bring wealth and sustenance. The plants, once vibrant, have crossed beyond all boundaries, stealthy as a thief slipping into a herd. In their movement, whatever impurity lingered in the body is shaken loose. When I, yearning for strength, gather these plants in my hands, the essence of disease is destroyed, just as the grip of death was once broken. Wherever the plants spread, limb by limb, let them drive away disease, fierce as a warrior in battle, scattering illness before them. Let all afflictions fall away, together with disease, and with the birds cāṣa and kikidīva; let them vanish with the gusting wind, disappear with the departing mist. Let each plant protect the next, and one support another, all united in their purpose—granting me this favor. Whether they bear fruit or are fruitless, whether they bloom or remain without flowers, all these plants, born of Brihaspati, may they release us from harm. May they free me from curses, from the wrath of Varuna, from the fetters of Yama, and from every divine offense. The plants fall to earth, yet their voices ring out from the sky in all directions; and the person who partakes of this life, blessed by their presence, does not perish. Among the many wise and hundred-eyed plants of Soma the king, you are foremost, fulfilling desires and bringing joy. You are the plants of Soma the king, spread across the earth, born of Brihaspati—grant her your strength. Whether near or far, let all the herbs, gathering together, bestow their power upon her. May neither the one who digs you up nor the one for whom I dig you be harmed; may all our bipeds and quadrupeds be free from illness. The plants spoke together with Soma the king: "For whom the Brahmin prepares, O king, we shall deliver him." You, O plant, are the destroyer of swelling, the disperser of piles, the ripener and destroyer of a hundred diseases. You were first dug by the Gandharvas, by Indra, by Brihaspati; you, O plant, Soma the wise king, were released from disease. Stand firm for me against hostilities, withstand the attacks of enemies, and repel all evil, O enduring plant. Long life to the one for whom you are dug, and to whom I dig you; and may you, being long-lived, grow with a hundred roots. O best of plants, your trees are supports; let that support be ours against whoever assails us. Let not the begetter of earth, nor the one who, just and true, has spread the sky, harm us; nor he who first begot the shining waters— to which god shall we offer our oblation? Advance, O earth, with the sacrifice, together with the nourishing milk; let Agni, impelled, ascend your richness. O Agni, what is bright, what is shining, what is pure and fit for sacrifice—these we bear to the gods. Here, I take food and strength, the source of truth, the stream of the mighty one; let it enter our cows and our bodies. I cast away disease, barrenness, and misfortune. O Agni, your fame and power are great; your flames shine, O radiant one. With your vast light and might, you grant strength and praise to the worshipper, O sage. Of pure, shining, unfailing radiance, you rise upward with your light; like a son moving between his mothers, you fill both worlds. O Jātavedas, offspring of strength, rejoice in good praises, established by wise thoughts; in you, O richly formed one, bountiful and wondrously born, the generous place their offerings. O Agni, shining forth, expand for us wealth with all beings, O immortal one; you shine with visible form, filling the seat with strength. You are the maker of the rite, the wise, the dweller in great wealth; you grant the fair, great, and blessed gift, bestowing abundant food and riches upon the seat. The peoples have placed Agni, mighty and all-seeing, upholder of order, for favor; you, O divine one, most renowned and widely spread, are praised by men of all ages in song. O Soma, fill yourself up, let your vigor come together from all sides; be present at the gathering of strength. May your milks, your strengths, your manly powers, and your victorious energies unite; being filled, O Soma, for immortality, place the highest glories in heaven. Fill yourself, O Soma, most exhilarating, with all your streams; be for us the most renowned friend for increase. To you, O Agni, my mind goes as a calf to its distant resting place; I long for you with my song. To you, O most Angiras, all good dwellings, O Agni, have separately turned for desire. In beloved abodes, Agni is the desire of what has been and what will be; the sole sovereign shines forth. I take Agni first for myself, for increase of wealth, for good offspring, for heroism; may the deities attend me. You are the back of the waters, the womb of Agni, swelling around the ocean. Growing great, come forth in the lotus; spread out by the measure and vastness of the sky. Brahma was born first, radiant before all boundaries, shining with splendor at the beginning. He, the Vena, moved, his roots deep, the highest and the lowest, the womb of existence and non-existence. Hiraṇyagarbha arose in the beginning, the sole lord of all that exists. He sustained earth and heaven; to which god shall we offer our sacrifice? The primal drop descended upon earth and heaven, upon this womb and the one before. I offer this drop, moving through the common womb, together with the seven priests—an offering to the source of all.