Let them rise—the nearer ones, the farther, and those betwixt— the forefathers who are worthy of soma’s draught.

They who have gone to the next life, keeping clear of the wolf, they who know the truth— let them aid us now as we lift our voices in holy call.

Let this offering, made this day, be unto the forefathers— those of times long past, and those who shall follow after, whether seated now upon this earth or dwelling among the clans of right and goodly order.

Here have I found the forefathers—glad is the finding— and the son’s son, and the far-reaching stride of Vishnu.

They sit upon the sacred grass, sharing in the soma pressed, and take their portion at the cry of svadhā— they are welcome as none other.

Forefathers who lean this way upon the ritual grass, with your favor we have laid these offerings before you— enjoy them!
Come hither with your luck-bearing strength, and grant to us long life unmarred and richly blessed.

The forefathers, deserving of the soma,
are summoned now to their treasured seats upon the grass.
Let them draw near—let them hearken—
let them speak.

Bend the knee, and take your seat to the south, greet this rite, each one of you.

O forefathers, do us no harm, though we, being but mortal, may stray and offend in our ways.

Seated in the lap of the ruddy dawns, give wealth unto the pious man.
Stretch forth a portion of thy blessings to thy sons— give meat and means, and make this place full-fed.

Our ancient sires, the Vasiṣṭhas, they too were found worthy of soma.
They journeyed onward to the draught of the gods.
Let Yama, lord of the passed-on, delight in the feast with them, for he is eager, as are they.

Those who thirsted and panted among the gods, those skilled in priestly art, those shaped by praise and chant— bring them near, O Agni, turn them this way.
Let the forefathers who are good to find, who truly dwell among us, the poets who drink the gharma—let them come.

They who are truly here—who eat of the offerings, who drink of the soma, who ride in Indra’s car with the gods— bring them, O Agni, with thy guiding flame.
Let the thousand-praised sires of old—those gone before, those newly come—draw nigh to the gharma drink.

Sweetened by Agni, come, O forefathers,
each to his seat rightly named, ye guides of good counsel.
Take joy in the gifts laid upon the sacred grass— and then bestow upon us wealth in hale-born men.

Thou, Agni Jātavedas, who art called in awe, hast borne these offerings and made them sweet with thy flame.

Thou gavest them to the sires—they have eaten well at the cry of svadhā.
Now thou thyself, O god, take of the gift laid forth.

Whether here or far, whether known or unknown, let all the forefathers be called—thou knowest them, Jātavedas.

By thy own might, at the sacred cry, share in this well-offered rite.

Those burned in the fire, and those who were not, who are gladdened by the cry of svadhā in the mid-heaven— go with them, as king among kings, toward the life beyond.
Shape thyself as thou wilt, and on our behalf, may they give us aid.