With his high flame shining, Agni driveth forth— the great bull belloweth to the twin realms above and below.

He reacheth unto the utmost heights of heaven; like a water-borne buffalo, he waxeth strong in the bosom of the floods.

He exulteth as a babe in the womb, a humped bull in his might.
No failing is found in him—the youngling crieth out with force.
He lifteth the offerings up to the gods’ great gathering and goeth before all others into his rightful seats.

He who hath laid hold on the heads of his twain parents, they have set him at the rite as the streaming light of the sun.

At his uprising, the ruddy maidens delight in their own fair forms, riding the fire-horse within the womb of truth.

Thou goest before each dawning day, O noble flame, and so hast thou become the far-shining one betwixt the twin-born.

For the sake of truth, thou hast set thy sevenfold tread— and thus thou begettest the bond of kinship for thine own self.

Thou art become the eye and watchman of mighty truth; in thy just work thou becomest even Varuṇa.

Child of the Waters, O Jātavedas, thou takest joy in the rites of him whose oblation thou bearest aloft.

Thou art the forerunner of the rite and the lord of the breathful space, drawn onward by thy goodly steeds.

In the heavens thou hast planted thy head, which winneth the sun, and thy tongue thou hast made the bearer of offering, O Agni.

Trita, with steadfast mind, within the secret place, seeketh the far-seen wisdom of his elder forebear.

Craving fellowship in the hollow of his kin, he speaketh forth the weapons of his house and seeketh his path.

That one, the Āptya, well knowing the weapons of his line, driven by Indra, rose up in might and struck.

He shattered the three-headed, seven-reined beast, and loosed the kine—even those born of Tvaṣṭar’s child.

Indra, lord of the folk, smote off the heads of him who reached too far after power, who deemed himself as great.
He seized the cattle of Viśvarūpa, and with wrathful hand, he twisted off his triple crown.