Behold the radiant one! O Agni, shining!
Thy flames do leap as high as heaven's dome,
Illuminating all the earth beneath thee,
Making the darkness flee as thou dost rise.

There is no place where thy great light reacheth not,
No corner so remote, no crevice dark,
That when thou blazest forth thy golden splendor,
The shadows do not scatter and give way.

Upon the altar how thy flames do tremble!
Like dancers in the grip of sacred madness,
They twist and sway and leap toward the heavens,
Each one a separate prayer made manifest.

The butter melts and drips upon thy coals,
And thou dost roar in answer to our praise.
The smoke ascendeth like a living ladder,
A bridge on which the oblations climb on high.

What beauty in destruction! What great glory
In thy consuming all that men do give!
The wood doth crackle, break, and turn to ashes,
And from that death, the sacred smoke ascends.

Thou showeth us the truth of all existence—
That nothing lasteth, all things turn to flame,
Yet in that burning something immortal shineth,
A glory that no death shall ever touch.

O radiant one, illuminate our spirits!
Let thy great light burn through our foolish darkness,
That we may see the truth of things as thou dost,
And learn to give ourselves as freely up.

For he who giveth all unto thy fire,
Who holds back nothing from thy hungry heat,
Shall find that in the burning he surviveth,
Made pure and bright and radiant as thee.