Born is the Light! The Fire hath sprung forth from the churning of the wood,
As a child from the womb, as dawn breaketh from the darkness of the night.

Agni is born! The sticks do rub and groan, and from their friction leapeth up
The flame that was not, and lo, it is—bright, burning, alive with sacred power.

The two that gave him birth do stand amazed at what they have created,
The wooden male and wooden mate, who knew not of the fire they bore within.
But now the flame doth burn and roar, and all the world is filled with light.

How marvellous is thy coming forth, O Fire! Thou runnest swift as deer,
Thou climbest up toward heaven; thy smoke doth reach unto the gods on high.
Not slow, not weak, but fleet and strong—such is thy nature from the very hour of thy birth.

The colour of thy flame is gold; thy tongue is red as blood of sacrifice,
Thy roar is like the voice of bulls when they do bellow in the feld at morn.
All creatures hear and tremble; all the earth doth know that thou hast come.

O Light-Bringer, thou shinest where the darkness did hold sway before,
In dwelling-places dark and cold, thou kickest up thy light and warmth.
The children gather nigh to thee; the old folk draw their bones up close to catch thy blessed heat.

No creature would deny thee now, though many sought to keep thee bound,
For thou hast power to escape all bonds, and thou art mightier than all restraint.
The gods themselves do bow before thy glory, O thou Fire Supreme.

Praise be unto thee! From thy birth thou rulest over all the earth,
Thy kingdom is both wide and deep; thy dominion hath no end.
We mortals sing thy praises and we call upon thy sacred name with joy and reverence.