The bull hath poured out his draughts of milk for the bull, Soma for Indra, by the milking of the heavens.

He, the ever-young and unbeguiled son of Aditi, knoweth all, as Varuna knoweth—by insight deep and sure.

Let him who is fit for offering set forth the sacrifice, through all the ordered rounds of holy rite.

The Gandharvī murmureth—
may that maiden of the waters hedge my mind round about, when the bellowing of the bellowing bull is heard.

Let Aditi place us in the heart of our desiring.
Our eldest brother shall speak it first—Agni shall declare.

Even now hath Dawn arisen, she who is rich in kine and glory, and walketh beside the Sun, for the sons of Manu.

Then do men beget Agni as Hotar, to portion forth the offerings,
he being eager and yoked to the will of the eager.

Behold this shining drop—Soma, spread wide and gleaming unto all.
The bird, the falcon that was sent, hath borne it to the rite, when the clans of Ārya chose Agni, the wondrous, to be their Hotar.

So was his far-seeing insight born.

Thou art ever a delight, O Agni, like green pastures to a man in good days, when thou leadest forth right rites with Manu’s holy drink, or when, by toil made pure, thou bringest the poet his fitting prize, drawing nigh with riches plentiful.

Awaken now his two begetters—his parents, the kindling-sticks— as a man would rouse the maiden of his heart.

The gladdener seeketh the kine;
his speech riseth from the deep well of his breast.
The strong one speaketh—the doer of goodly work.
The lord revealeth his might, and quaketh with thought divine.

Whoever of mortal men shall win thy grace, O Agni, thou son of might, his name shall echo far and high.
He draweth refreshment unto himself, borne swiftly by his steeds,
bright, fearsome, and steadfast in thy service.

And when this gathering, O Agni, becometh godly in the midst of gods,
a hallowed host among the heavenly ones— then, O thou that sharest gifts at will, set aside for us a portion laden with good.

Hear us where thou sittest, Agni, in thy dwelling, in thy seat of fire.
Yoke now the swift cart of the deathless.
Bring unto us the twain world-halves, whose sons are gods.
Be not far off from the host divine—be with us here!