Hear us, O Agni, thou fire of the sacrifice! Thou burnest eternal—not merely for a night or a day, but from the beginning of time until time itself shall cease. The fires that kindled before the first humans walked the earth—art thou not descended from those ancient flames? The fires that shall burn after we mortals have turned to dust—shall they not carry within them the spark of thy eternal being?

Thou art the cosmic force incarnate, O Agni! All heat, all light, all transformation floweth from thee. The sun in the sky is but a reflection of thy radiance. The stars are but sparks flying upward from thy eternal flame.

Thou art both small and mighty. The tiny flame that we kindle in our hearths—is it not thee? The roaring inferno that consumeth a forest—is it not also thee? How strange that the same god appeareth in such different forms! The housewife's cooking fire and the raging wildfire—both are Agni, both are thy manifestation.

In thee all things are transformed. The raw wood becometh ash and smoke and heat. The raw flesh becometh nourishment for the body. The crude ore becometh burnished metal. Nothing remaineth unchanged when it passeth through thy domain. Thou art the god of transformation, the changer of forms, the revealer of hidden essences.

And thou art merciful, O ancient one! Thou warmest the cold on the winter night. Thou cookest the food that sustaineth us. Thou burnest away the impurities, leaveth only the pure behind. Thy transformation, though it may seem fierce, doth bring forth good.

We kindle thee each day, O eternal fire! We feed thee wood and ghee. We speak thy name. And thou receivest our offerings and carriest them to the gods above. Thus do we praise thee, O Agni—ancient, eternal, transform all, purifier, bearer of our prayers to the divine realm.