Hear now the dialogue 'tween great Agastya, the sage most wise and ancient,
And Indra, the lord of heaven, as they do dispute upon the nature of the sacrifice.

Agastya speaketh with voice that hath the weight of ages upon it:
Indra, thou art mighty, this none shall dare to deny,
Yet I do ask thee truly: what is the source of thy great power?
Is it not the sacrifice that the mortals do perform?
Is it not the soma that is pressed by priestly hands?
Is it not the prayers that rise like incense unto the sky?

Indra doth respond with thunder rolling in his voice:
Old sage, thou art wise in many matters and in learning deep,
Yet I must tell thee plainly: my strength cometh not from mortals' deeds,
I am mighty from mine own eternal nature and essence,
I was born of the gods themselves before the worlds did form,
And my power is rooted in the very heart of being.

The sacrifice doth please me, and I do accept the soma sweet,
But I do not depend upon these gifts, however precious they may be,
For my might would endure though all the mortals ceased from worship,
And my throne would stand unshaken though no hymns were ever sung.

Agastya doth reply with wisdom ancient and profound:
Indra, thy words contain the truth, and yet they are not all the truth,
For what is a god without the recognition of the worshippers?
What is power without the acknowledgment of those who serve?
Thou art indeed mighty from thy nature inherent and divine,
But thy glory doth shine brightest when the mortals do perceive it,
And thy reign doth extend furthest when the people do revere thy name.

The sacrifice is not thy source of power, this I do concede,
Yet it is the sacred bond that doth connect thee to the world below,
It is the thread that bindeth heaven unto earth,
And through it floweth blessing from the gods unto the mortals grateful.

Indra doth nod with understanding vast and gracious:
Thy words are wise indeed, O ancient sage so learned,
I see the truth in what thou sayest, and I am moved to agreement,
For a god who standeth utterly alone doth become as one forgotten,
And the purpose of the gods is to uphold the mortal world,
To guard and guide and bless the beings who do dwell below.

So let the sacrifices rise forever unto the gods on high,
Let the mortals sing their praises with devoted hearts and voices true,
And let the bond 'tween heaven and earth be strengthened through these rites,
For in this sacred commerce doth all blessing flow and multiply.