My thoughts keenly discerned the Cow wandering freely without a herdsman, The one who straightaway provided me with plenty: Indra and Agni are her praises.
Indra and Pūṣan, skilled and mighty, have drained the endless udder of the sky. As in this praise the Gods all delight, may I win blessings here from you, O Vasus.
With reverence, I recognize the seed within the Bull; the Cows approach the Youngling, Endowed with great and wondrous beauty, to him they come with lowing sounds.
With thought fixed, at sacrifice, I place the press-stones; let the formed Heaven and Earth come near. For these your flames, which grant men plenty, rise high, beautiful and holy.
Agni, your meath-sweet tongue that tastes fine foods, among the Gods it’s called far-reaching— With it, make all the Holy Odes sit here for our aid, and feed them with sweet juices.
May your stream give us drink, O God, O Agni, wonderful and endless like the rainclouds. Thus care for us, O Vasu Jātavedas, show us your kindness, reaching all men.