In reverence and awe, the sages offer salutations to the many facets of the divine, recognizing the splendor that shines forth and the force that returns again and again. They honor the presence in the southern direction and the peace that dwells there, the renowned one whose fame is widespread and the finality that marks the end. They bow to the fertile earth and the threshing ground where life’s bounty is gathered. Their salutations extend to the wild places and the borders where civilization meets wilderness, to the divine ear that hears all and the echo that resounds. They honor the swift-moving army and the chariot that races ahead, the hero who stands firm and the one who penetrates all obstacles. They pay homage to the one who dwells in the cave, hidden and armored, to the shield-bearer, and to the renowned leader and his mighty army. The drum that sounds the call to battle and the invincible spirit are honored as well. The bold and the one who touches all things are greeted, as are the quiver-bearer and the skilled archer. The sharp-arrowed, the well-armed, the self-armed, and the good bowman—all receive salutations. The flowing waters and the paths they carve, the ditch and the heap, the canal and the lake, the roaring and the tranquil—all are acknowledged. The well and the pit, the watercourse and the heated stream, the pure and the lightning flash, the rainy and the dry—each aspect is honored. The wind that rushes and the force that moves swiftly, the resident and the guardian of the dwelling, Soma and Rudra, the copper-colored and the red—these too are greeted with respect. The horned lord of cattle and the fierce, terrible one, the slayer at the front and at a distance, the killer and the one to be killed, the trees and the green-haired, the star shining above—all are honored. Salutations go to the source of happiness and the bringer of joy, the beneficent and the maker of happiness, the auspicious and the most auspicious. The one at the boundary and the one beyond, the one who crosses and the one who lifts across, the one at the ford and the canal, the grassy and the foamy—all are recognized. The sandy and the flowing, the stony and the decaying, the one with matted hair and the descendant of Pulastya, the desert and the broad path—these too are honored. The one in the pasture and the cattle pen, on the mat and in the house, in the heart and in the dwelling, in the ditch and in the cavern—all receive salutations. The dry and the green, the dusty and the misty, the ploughed and the tilled, the earth and the sunlit—each is honored. The leafy and the leaf-bearer, the one who uproots and the one who strikes, the one who shakes and the one who makes tremble, the makers of arrows and bows, the scatterers, the hearts of the gods, the searchers, the destroyers, the invincible—all are greeted with reverence. Then, with humility, the supplicant addresses the destroyer, lord of food, impoverished one, blue and red-hued: “Do not harm these beings, these cattle; do not strike or injure us in any way.” Thoughts are offered to Rudra, the mighty, the matted-haired, the destroyer of the brave, seeking peace for bipeds and quadrupeds alike, that all in the village may be nourished and free from distress. The prayer continues: “O Rudra, your auspicious form, ever beneficent, universal healer, remedy for all suffering—grant us happiness and life.” May Rudra’s missile turn away, may his fierce wrath and evil intention pass by; may the gracious one protect the generous, shield children and descendants, and grant mercy. The most generous, most auspicious, is called to be kindly disposed, to set his weapon down on the highest tree, clad in a hide, and come near, bearing the bow Pinaka. Homage is offered to the scatterer, red-hued Lord, beseeching that his thousand missiles fall elsewhere, away from the supplicants. Acknowledging the thousands upon thousands of Rudra’s missiles, the prayer asks that he be their master and turn their faces away. Countless thousands of Rudras are upon the earth; may their bows be laid down at a thousand leagues’ distance. In the vast ocean and atmosphere, Rudra dwells; may their bows be laid down far away. Blue-necked, white-throated Rudras who have ascended to heaven, and Sharvas who move upon the earth below, those among the trees, tawny, blue-necked, red-hued, those who are lords of beings, arrow-bearers, matted-haired, those who guard the paths and lead travelers, wielding weapons of life, those who roam the fords, holding clubs and bearing quivers, those who strike people eating food or drinking from vessels—all Rudras, spread in every direction, are asked to lay down their bows at a thousand leagues’ distance. Homage is given to Rudras in heaven, whose arrows are rain: ten in the east, ten in the south, ten in the west, ten in the north, ten above. May they protect and show mercy. Whomever is hated, or hates, is consigned into their jaws. Likewise, salutations are offered to Rudras in the atmosphere, whose arrows are winds, and to those on earth, whose arrows are food, each group in their respective directions and above, with the same plea for protection and mercy. The story turns to the strength and nourishment resting on stone and mountain, gathered from waters, plants, and trees. The Maruts, striving together, are invoked to grant this strength and nourishment. The stone is declared as hunger, and the prayer asks that strength be in the supplicant, with the thunderbolt reaching whomever is hated. A ritual invocation follows: “May these bricks of mine, O Agni, be cows—one, ten, ten hundred, ten thousand, ten ten-thousand, ten hundred-thousand, ten million, ten hundred-million, ten billion, ten hundred-billion, ten trillion, ten ocean, the middle, the end, the highest.” May these bricks be cows in this world and the next. Agni is recognized as of the seasons, strengthened by the seasons, standing in the seasons, again strengthened by the seasons. Flowing with ghee and honey, radiant, wish-fulfilling, inexhaustible—these are his qualities. With the foam of the ocean, Agni is encircled, beseeched to be pure and auspicious. With the membrane of frost, Agni is again encircled, asked to be pure and auspicious. The invocation concludes: “Come near, come as if to the reed, cross over as in the rivers. Agni, you are the bile among waters. Frog, come with them; make this sacrifice of ours bright and auspicious.” Thus, through a cascade of salutations, prayers, and invocations, the sages honor the myriad forms of the divine, seeking protection, nourishment, and auspiciousness for all creation.