In the beginning, Prajāpati, the Lord of creatures, brought forth two kinds of offspring: the gods and the demons. Among these, the gods were lesser in might, while the demons were greater. Thus, a rivalry arose, and they vied with one another in these worlds. Seeking victory over the demons, the gods resolved: “Let us surpass them through the chanting of the sacrificial hymn.” They turned first to Speech, saying, “You chant for us.” Speech agreed and chanted on their behalf. All the enjoyment that lies in speech, she chanted for the gods; what was auspicious in her, she kept for herself. But the demons perceived what was happening: “Through this chanter, the gods will surpass us.” So, they attacked Speech with evil. Since then, whoever speaks what is improper is afflicted by that same evil. Next, the gods asked Breath to chant. Breath agreed and chanted for them. All the enjoyment found in breath, he chanted for the gods; what was auspicious in him, he kept for himself. Again, the demons saw their advantage threatened, and attacked Breath with evil. Thus, whoever smells what is improper is afflicted by evil. Then the gods asked the Eye to chant. The Eye agreed and chanted for them. All that is enjoyable in sight, he chanted for the gods; the auspicious he kept for himself. The demons, perceiving their plan, attacked the Eye with evil, so that whoever sees what is improper is afflicted by evil. The gods then turned to the Ear. The Ear agreed and chanted for them. All enjoyment found in hearing, he chanted for the gods; what was auspicious, he kept for himself. The demons, again, attacked the Ear with evil, so that whoever hears what is improper is afflicted by evil. Finally, the gods asked the Mind to chant. The Mind agreed and chanted for them. All enjoyment found in thought, he chanted for the gods; the auspicious, he kept for himself. Yet again, the demons attacked the Mind with evil, and so whoever thinks what is improper is afflicted by evil. Thus, all these deities—the faculties of the gods—were beset by evil, for the demons attacked them at every turn. At the seat of sacrifice, the gods appealed once more to Breath, this time to the vital Breath (Prāṇa): “You chant for us.” Prāṇa agreed and chanted. The demons, seeking to thwart the gods, attacked Prāṇa with evil. But their assault shattered, as if striking a rock or a lump of clay, and their evil was destroyed. Thus, the gods became victorious and the demons were defeated. Victory belongs to one who knows his own Self; his enemies and rivals are vanquished. The gods then wondered, “Where has Prāṇa, who was thus beset, gone?” They realized: “He dwells within the mouth; he is the essence and sap of all the limbs.” This very deity, Prāṇa, is called Dūr, for death is far from her. Indeed, death is far from one who knows thus. Having cast off the evil and death that afflicted the other deities, she carried them to the edges of the directions and deposited their evil there. Therefore, one should not descend to a state lower than human, nor go to the ends of the earth, nor follow evil and death. Having cast off their evil and death, Prāṇa carried the deities beyond death. First, she carried Speech beyond death; when Speech was released, she became Fire. Thus, Fire, having crossed beyond death, now shines. Next, she carried Breath beyond death; released, Breath became Wind, which now blows, having crossed beyond death. Then she carried the Eye beyond death; released, the Eye became the Sun, which now shines. Next, she carried the Ear beyond death; released, the Ear became the Directions, which now exist, having crossed beyond death. Lastly, she carried the Mind beyond death; released, the Mind became the Moon, which now shines. In this way, Prāṇa, the vital Breath, carries one beyond death—whoever knows this truth. Then, food was brought for the Self. Whatever food is eaten, it is eaten by this Self alone; here it is established. The gods said, “All this, indeed, is only as much as food; you have reached the Self. Now distribute food among us.” They entered into him, and he agreed. They entered him completely. Therefore, by what the Self eats, by that the faculties are satisfied. Thus, they enter their own Self; the master of his own is the best and foremost, the eater of food, the lord—whoever knows thus. Whoever, knowing this, desires offspring among his own is never insufficient for his wives. But one who does not know this and desires offspring among his wives is indeed insufficient. The Self is the essence and sap of all the limbs. Breath is the sap of the limbs; from whichever limb breath departs, that limb dries up, for breath is the sap of the limbs. This Self is Bṛhaspati; speech is truly Bṛhatī, and he is her lord—thus, he is called Bṛhaspati. He is also Brahmaṇaspati; speech is Brahman, and he is her lord—thus, he is Brahmaṇaspati. He is Sāman; speech is Sāman, and he is its singer. This is the essence of Sāman. Whoever is equal with a horse, a mosquito, an elephant, with these three worlds, with all existence—such a one attains union and world-hood with Sāman, for whoever knows this Sāman. He is the Udgītha. Breath is truly Udgītha, for by breath all is upheld. Speech is the song and the singer; therefore, he is called Udgītha. Once, while eating, King Brahmadatta of the Cikitānas said: “This is the king who split his head; for when his essence departed by another way, it was by speech and breath that it departed.” Whoever knows the true possession of this Sāman truly obtains possession; for him, possession is svara (intonation). Therefore, a priest should desire svara in speech; with speech endowed with svara, he should perform his priestly work. Those who seek possession in sacrifice look for one with svara; he truly obtains possession, whoever knows this Sāman. Whoever knows the gold of this Sāman truly obtains gold; for him, gold is svara. He truly obtains gold, whoever knows the gold of this Sāman. Whoever knows the foundation of this Sāman truly stands firm; for him, the foundation is speech. In truth, this prāṇa is established in speech and is sung; some say it is food. Now, regarding the ascent of the Pavamānas: the prastotṛ alone sings the sāman of the prastāva. When he sings, let him recite: “From the unreal lead me to the real; from darkness lead me to light; from death lead me to immortality.” When he says, “From the unreal lead me to the real,” the unreal is death, the real is immortality; “from death lead me to immortality”—thus he prays, “Do not make me mortal.” “From darkness lead me to light”—death is darkness, light is immortality; “from death lead me to immortality”—thus he prays, “Do not make me mortal.” “From death lead me to immortality”—there is nothing hidden here. As for other hymns, in them one should sing for oneself what is to be eaten and drunk; thus, one may choose whatever desire one wishes. The singer who knows this, for himself or for the sacrificer, sings whatever desire he wishes. This is the conqueror of worlds; he does not hope for what is seen, whoever knows this Sāman. In the very beginning, there was the Self alone, in the form of a person. Looking around, he saw nothing but himself. He first declared, “I am.” Thus, he became “I” by name. Even now, when one is addressed, one first says “I am” and then speaks any other name. Because he burned up all evil before this, he is called puruṣa, the person. Whoever knows this and wishes to burn up what is before him, indeed burns it up. At first, he was afraid; for one who is alone is afraid. But then he reflected, “Since there is nothing but myself, of what should I be afraid?” Thus, his fear departed, for truly, fear arises from a second. He was indeed alone; and one who is alone does not delight. He desired a second. He became as large as a man and woman in close embrace. He divided himself in two; from that, husband and wife arose. As Yājñavalkya said, “This is like one side of a split pea.” Thus, the space is filled by a woman. He united with her, and from that union, human beings were born. But she thought, “How can he unite with me after producing me from himself?” She concealed herself. He became a bull, and she a cow; he united with her, and from that, cattle were born.