I Laud Agni, the chosen Priest, God, minister of sacrifice,
The hotar, lavishest of wealth.
Worthy is Agni to be praised by living as by ancient seers.
He shall bring hitherward the Gods.
Through Agni man obtaineth wealth, yea, plenty waxing day by day,
Most rich in heroes, glorious.
Agni, the perfect sacrifice which thou encompassest about
Verily goeth to the Gods.
May Agni, sapient-minded Priest, truthful, most gloriously great,
The God, come hither with the Gods.
Whatever blessing, Agni, thou wilt grant unto thy worshipper,
That, Aṅgiras, is indeed thy truth.
To thee, dispeller of the night, O Agni, day by day with prayer
Bringing thee reverence, we come
Ruler of sacrifices, guard of Law eternal, radiant One,
Increasing in thine own abode.
Be to us easy of approach, even as a father to his son:
Agni, be with us for our weal.
BEAUTIFUL Vāyu, come, for thee these Soma drops have been prepared:
Drink of them, hearken to our call.
Knowing the days, with Soma juice poured forth, the singers glorify
Thee, Vāyu, with their hymns of praise.
Vāyu, thy penetrating stream goes forth unto the worshipper,
Far-spreading for the Soma draught.
These, Indra-Vāyu, have been shed; come for our offered dainties’ sake:
The drops are yearning for you both.
Well do ye mark libations, ye Vāyu and Indra, rich in spoil!
So come ye swiftly hitherward.
Vāyu and Indra, come to what the Soma-presser hath prepared:
Soon, Heroes, thus I make my prayer.
Mitra, of holy strength, I call, and foe-destroying Varuṇa,
Who make the oil-fed rite complete.
Mitra and Varuṇa, through Law, lovers and cherishers of Law,
Have ye obtained your might power
Our Sages, Mitra-Varuṇa, wide dominion, strong by birth,
Vouchsafe us strength that worketh well.
YE Aśvins, rich in treasure, Lords of splendour, having nimble hands,
Accept the sacrificial food.
Ye Aśvins, rich in wondrous deeds, ye heroes worthy of our praise,
Accept our songs with mighty thought.
Nāsatyas, wonder-workers, yours are these libations with clipt grass:
Come ye whose paths are red with flame.
O Indra marvellously bright, come, these libations long for thee,
Thus by fine fingers purified.
Urged by the holy singer, sped by song, come, Indra, to the prayers,
Of the libation-pouring priest.
Approach, O Indra, hasting thee, Lord of Bay Horses, to the prayers.
In our libation take delight.
Ye Viśvedevas, who protect, reward, and cherish men, approach
Your worshipper’s drink-offering.
Ye Viśvedevas, swift at work, come hither quickly to the draught,
As milch-kine hasten to their stalls.
The Viśvedevas, changing shape like serpents, fearless, void of guile,
Bearers, accept the sacred draught
Wealthy in spoil, enriched with hymns, may bright Sarasvatī desire,
With eager love, our sacrifice.
Inciter of all pleasant songs, inspirer of all gracious thought,
Sarasvatī accept our rite
Sarasvatī, the mighty flood, — she with her light illuminates,
She brightens every pious thought.
As a good cow to him who milks, we call the doer of fair deeds,
To our assistance day by day.
Come thou to our libations, drink of Soma; Soma-drinker thou!
The rich One’s rapture giveth kine.
So may we be acquainted with thine innermost benevolence:
Neglect us not, come hitherward.
Go to the wise unconquered One, ask thou of Indra, skilled in song,
Him who is better than thy friends.
Whether the men who mock us say, Depart unto another place,
Ye who serve Indra and none else;
Or whether, God of wondrous deeds, all our true people call us blest,
Still may we dwell in Indra’s care.
Unto the swift One bring the swift, man-cheering, grace of sacrifice,
That to the Friend gives wings and joy.
Thou, Śatakratu, drankest this and wast the Vṛtras’ slayer; thou
Helpest the warrior in the fray.
We strengthen, Śatakratu, thee, yea, thee the powerful in fight,
That, Indra, we may win us wealth.
To him the mighty stream of wealth, prompt friend of him who pours the juice,
Yea, to this Indra sing your song.
O COME ye hither, sit ye down: to Indra sing ye forth, your song,
companions, bringing hymns of praise.
To him the richest of the rich, the Lord of treasures excellent,
Indra, with Soma juice outpoured.
May he stand by us in our need and in abundance for our wealth:
May he come nigh us with his strength.
Whose pair of tawny horses yoked in battles foemen challenge not:
To him, to Indra sing your song.
Nigh to the Soma-drinker come, for his enjoyment, these pure drops,
The Somas mingled with the curd.
Thou, grown at once to perfect strength, wast born to drink the Soma juice,
Strong Indra, for preëminence.
O Indra, lover of the song, may these quick Somas enter thee:
May they bring bliss to thee the Sage.