The youthful Mother holds the Boy in secret, close to her, and does not yield him to the Father. But, when he lies upon the arm, the people see his unchanging face before them.
What child dost thou carry as handmaid, O Youthful One? The Consort-Queen bore him. The unborn Babe grew through many seasons. I saw him born when his Mother bore him.
I saw him from afar, golden-toothed, bright-colored, hurling his weapons from his dwelling, When I gave him Amṛta pure without mixture. How can the Indraless, the hymnless harm me?
I saw him moving from the place he dwells in, just like a herd, brilliantly shining. These did not seize him: he had been born already. Those who were gray with age again become youthful.
Who separates my young bull from the cattle, those whose protector was truly not a stranger? Let those whose hands have seized them free them. May he, observant, drive the herd to us.
Mid mortal men, godless have hidden the King of all who live, home of the people. So may the prayers of Atri give him freedom. Reproached in turn be those who now reproach him.
You loosed even Śunaḥśepa bound for a thousand; for he prayed with fervor. So, Agni, loose from us the bonds that bind us, when you are seated here, O Priest who knows.
You fled from me, Agni, in your anger; this the protector of Gods' laws told me. Indra, who knows, bent his eye upon you; by him instructed am I come, O Agni.
Agni shines far and wide with lofty splendor, and by his greatness makes all things visible. He conquers the godless and malign enchantments, and sharpens both his horns to gore the Rakṣas.
Loud in the sky above be Agni's roars with keen-edged weapons to destroy the demons. Forth burst his splendors in the Soma's joy. The godless bands press round but cannot stop him.
As a skilled craftsman makes a chariot, a singer I, Mighty One! This hymn for thee have shaped. If thou, O Agni, God, accept it gladly, may we obtain thereby the heavenly waters.
May he, the strong