Awake, O Agni! The dawn hath broken. Rise thou from the ashes! Come forth, O bright one, clothed in flames. The night hath passed; the darkness fleeth before thee. Now kindleth the morning fire, and all the world doth wake.

We have prepared the wood; we have laid the dry grass. Now receive our offering, O flame! Rise up from thy bed of coals, leap high into the heavens! Thy smoke ascendeth—a bridge between the earth and the gods. Through thee do we speak with the immortals above.

O Agni, born in the waters, born of the wood! Thou art the mouth of sacrifice. All oblations pass through thy gullet; thou renderest them to the gods. Without thee, no prayer reacheth heaven. Without thy tongue of flame, the gods would not taste our offerings.

We kindle thee each morning. We nurture thee with wood and ghee. And thou, in turn, dost protect our homes. Thy flames keep at bay the darkness, the wild beasts, the demons of night. Thou art the guardian of the threshold, the warder of the gate.

O early-kindled fire! Thou art young yet mighty. Thy heat doth grow with each new stick of wood. By evening thou shalt tower to the sky, a pillar of flame visible for leagues. But now, in this moment, while the dawn is fresh, we do invoke thee and lay our offerings before thee.

Grant us prosperity, O Agni! Grant us wealth and sons and daughters. May our herds increase; may our enemies tremble. Be our friend in battle, our companion in the home. Accept our oblation and carry it to the gods. Thus do we kindle thee each morning—forever kindling, forever burning, forever bearing our prayers to the immortals on high.