Thou hast many names, O Agni, for thou art many things! At dawn thou art Jātavedas, the knower of all creatures. In the evening thou art Vaiśvānara, the universal flame. In the household thou art Gṛhapati, the lord of the home. In the forest thou art Vanaspati, the lord of the wood.

The Ṛṣis call thee by a thousand names, and each name reveals a different aspect of thy nature. Thou art Tapan, the burner. Thou art Śuci, the pure. Thou art Kṛśanu, the archer who flings thy arrows of heat into the darkness. Thou art Vahni, the bearer, who carries the offerings skyward to the gods.

What god hath so many forms? What god doth manifest himself so variously throughout creation? Thou alone, O Agni, art all these things. Yet thou remainest ever thyself—the eternal flame, the cosmic fire, the transforming power that underlies all change.

Art thou one or many? Both and neither! When we kindle the fire in our hearth, is it not the same Agni who burns in the lightning and in the sun? When we see the flame consume the wood, is it not the same Agni who dwells hidden within all things, waiting to be revealed?

Thou art the link between all realms. In the sacrifice thou connectest earth and heaven. In the belly thou connectest food and flesh. In the funeral pyre thou connectest the body and the beyond. Thou art the mediator, the transformer, the one who standeth between all opposites.

Therefore do thy names multiply beyond counting, O Fire! For each moment thou becomest something new, yet always thou remainest thyself. Each creature seeth thee differently—the sun beholds thee as a brother, the plants as life-giving warmth, the men as divine mystery. Grant us wisdom to know thy true nature, O Agni of Many Names!