I HAVE seen the might of this Great Being. Immortal in the midst of mortal tribes.
His jaws open and shut: much they devour, hungrily.
His eyes turned away, his head hidden: unsated with his tongue, he eats the fuel.
With hands raised, with reverence in the houses, they quickly bring his food together.
Seeking, as it were, his Mother's secret bosom, he, like a child, creeps through wide-spread bushes.
One he finds glowing like hot food ready, kissed deep within the earth’s recesses.
This holy Law I tell you, Earth and Heaven: the Infant at his birth does honor to his Parents.
No knowledge of the God have I, a mortal. Agni knows best, for he has wisdom.
The man who quickly gives him food, who offers his oils and butters and supports him,
He with his thousand eyes closely looks on: thou showest him thy face from all sides, Agni.
Agni, hast thou committed sin or treason among the Gods? In ignorance I ask thee.
Playing, not playing, gold-hued and toothless, he cuts his food as the knife cuts a victim.
Born in wood, he yokes his horses rushing in all directions, held by gleaming reins.
The well-born friend carves his food with Vasus: in all his limbs he increases and prospers.