Now with loud praise shall we speak forth the birth of the gods, that one in time to come may behold them as the songs are sung.

The Lord of Holy Speech, like a smith at his forge, did smelt these births.
In that first age of gods, what is, was born from what was not.

In the eldest dawning of the divine, being sprang from non-being.
The reaches of the heavens were wrought thereafter— being was born of Him whose feet were laid bare.

From Him whose feet were laid open came forth the earth; from the earth arose the bounds of space.

From Aditi sprang Daksha, and from Daksha, Aditi in turn.

For Aditi was born, thy daughter, O Daksha; and after her, the gods were brought to light— the fair-born kin of the Deathless One.

When ye, O gods, stood bound close in the waters, a bitter dust flew out from you, like sweat from dancers in their whirl.

When ye, O gods, even as the Yatis of old, did swell the living worlds, then from the sea ye drew forth the sun, hidden deep beneath the wave.

Eight sons were born of Aditi’s womb, but with seven she went to the gods of old.
The eighth, sprung from a lifeless egg, she cast away.

Yet again, for birth’s sake and for death’s, she brought back him who came of the dead egg, and gave him unto the elder gods.