Instruct me, all you gods, how I, chosen as your priest, should sit here and how I should address you.
Teach me how to give each his share and which path to use to bring my offering.
I sit as the most skillful priest, urged on by the Maruts and all the gods. Aryas touch each day has its duty; Brahman and wood are here, it’s yours to offer.
Who is the priest? Is he the one for Yama? Who bears this honor God has bestowed? He lives each month, each day that passes; thus gods have made him their bearer of offerings.
The gods have made me their bearer of offerings, who slipped away and faced many trials. Wise Agni shall decide our worship, whether five-witted, threefold, or seven-threaded.
Thus I will win you eternal strength and life, O gods, that I may give you space and freedom. To Indra’s arms I would entrust the thunder; in all these battles he will surely triumph.
The three hundred and thirty-nine deities have served and honored Agni, Sprinkled sacred grass, anointed him with ghee, and made him priest, the gods’ invoker.