O Agni, the immortal among mortals! All else that liveth must perish. Kings die. Heroes fall. Even the gods who dwell in heaven shall pass away when the ages end. But thou, O fire—thou shalt not die! When the world hath burned to ash, when the mountains have crumbled and the seas have dried up, when even the gods have returned to the unmanifest—thy flame shall still burn somewhere, somehow, in some form.

We mortals are as grass in the field. The wind bendeth us. The frost killeth us. Our life is but a span, a handful of years. We are born, we grow, we wither, we fall. Such is the nature of all flesh. But thou art not bound by this law. Thou art the exception, O Agni. Thou art the god who cannot die.

Other gods may grow weary. Indra may tire of warfare. Varuṇa may grow bored with his ocean realm. But thou, O fire, art never weary! Each day thou burnest with the same fierce hunger. Each night thou gloweth with the same patient light. Thou art renewed each moment, yet forever the same.

This is why we love thee, O Agni! Because thou art eternal, our offerings have eternal meaning. Because thou dost not die, our prayers are not lost to the void. Because thou shalt burn forever, the sacrifices we make today shall echo through the ages. We mortals shall perish, but our service to thee shall remain. Our descendants shall kindle thee as we have done. Their descendants shall kindle thee. Forever and ever, the flame shall pass from hand to hand, from generation to generation.

O immortal one! Though we are mortal, let us walk in thy light. Though we shall die, let us kindle thee while we live. Make us worthy to serve thee. Make us worthy to kindle thy sacred fire. Then, though our bodies return to dust, our spirit shall rise with thy smoke to touch the eternal throne.