Great was the veil, and strong it was, wherein thou didst descend into the waters.
All thy shapes and manifold forms, O Agni Jātavedas, were beheld by one god alone.

Who beheld me? What god was he that fully saw all forms I wear?
Where now, O Mitra and Varuṇa, lie all the kindling-sticks of Agni— those that lead the way unto the gods?

We sought thee in many places, O Jātavedas— thee who had slipped into the waters, into the growing green, O Agni.

Yama beheld thy shining, bright as flame, reaching farther than ten spans of earth.

In dread of the priestly yoke I fled, O Varuṇa, lest the gods bind me to that office.

My forms did hide in many places.
I, Agni, tended not to this work, nor bore I mind to it.

Come forth! Manu, the god-loving, longeth for the rite, and he hath made it ready.
Yet thou, Agni, tarriest in gloom.
Make plain the paths to the gods; carry the gift with favor and light the way.

My elder kindred, the fire-born, did roll after this toil before me, as a charioteer along the dusted track.

And fearing this, O Varuṇa, I turned far aside.
I shrank away as a buffalo from the stretched string of the bowman.

A span of life shall we grant thee, Agni—one not touched by age or harm, that, yoked to thy charge, thou be not wearied, O Jātavedas.

Then wilt thou, with kindness shown, bear forth their shares to the gods?

Let the first-fruits and the last be mine alone, the fattening part of the gift, the "butter" from the streams, the "man" from the herbs— and let long life be mine, O gods.

So be it. Let the fore-offering and the after-offering be thine, the choicest share of the oblation.

Thine be this whole rite, O Agni.
Unto thee let all the four quarters bow.