From heaven was Agni first begotten; from our midst was he born again, as Jātavedas.
A third birth he took in the waters, the unwithering one— he whom men of steadfast mind awaken, kindling him in care, and singing his praise.

Thy triple triads we know, O Agni, thy dwellings spread abroad in many lands.
Thy highest name we know, though hidden, and the deep spring whence thou art come.

In the sea, in the waters did the manly-souled awaken thee; in the breast of heaven, the keen-eyed set thee aflame.

The strong buffaloes did strengthen thee, as thou stood in the third realm, cradled in the lap of the waters.

Then Agni roared as the thunder of the heights, ever licking at the bounds of sky and soil, anointing the herbs with fire’s bright touch.
No sooner was he born than he beheld all things— and cast his gleaming beam betwixt the twin world-halves.

He that stirreth up all beauty, upholdeth wealth, and driveth forth the breath of thought, with Soma as his herdsman—he, the goodly one, child of might, king amid the waves, shines forth, aflame at the fore of the dawns.

The beacon of all that is, the seed of fire, filled both the world-halves even in his birth.

I made Mr̥gaya bow to Śrutarvan, when he yielded in the rite, its measures rightly set.
For Āyu I made the vassal meek, and Paḍgr̥bhi I gave to Savya’s hand.

I am he who aided Navavāstva of the high-wheeled cars— I, who shatter Vr̥tras and foes alike.

When he upheld me with the ways of sacrifice, I flung open the shining realms, yonder at the far edge of the air.

I ride with the fleet ones yoked to the Sun, borne in my strength by the swift Etaśas.

When the soma-crushing of Manu calleth to me—saying it is my robe— then shall I thrust aside the stout Dāsa, though he be skilled.

I am breaker of the seven, more than Nahus in might.
Through me, Turvaśa and Yadu are made renowned.
One I struck down, matching his strength with mine; the ninety and nine I made bold and proud.

I, the bull, held fast the seven streams that sped across the earth.
With steady heart I crossed the floods,
and through strife, I found the path for Manu’s quest.

That which the god Tvaṣṭar held not, I held:
the shining sweetness in the udders and bellies of kine— milk longed for, honey of honeys, soma swelling, and the mingled draught.

Thus did Indra draw both god and man to him; by his stirring hand he moved them—he, the giver true.

All these thy deeds, O lord of tawny steeds, are sung by the mighty— thy strength thy own, thy glory sung aloud.