From the ocean rose the sweet wave: with the stalk it became Amṛta, That which is holy oil’s secret title: but the Gods' tongue is truly Amṛta's core.
Let us declare aloud the name of Ghṛta, and at this sacrifice hold it high with reverence. So may the Brahman hear the praise we utter. This was emitted by the Buffalo with four horns.
Four are its horns, three are the feet that carry it; its heads are two, its hands seven in number. Bound with a triple bond roars the Steer; the mighty God has entered mortals.
That oil in triple form the Gods discovered and laid down within the Cow, hidden by Paṇis. Indra created one form, Sūrya another: by their own power they formed the third from Vena.
From the deepest reservoir in countless channels flow these rivers that the foe cannot see. I behold the streams of oil descending, and there is the Golden Reed among them.
Like rivers our libations flow together, purifying themselves in the inner heart and spirit. The streams of holy oil pour swiftly downward like wild beasts fleeing before the bowman.
Like rushing down the rapids of a river, swifter than the wind are the vigorous currents flowing. The streams of oil surge like a red courser bursting through the fences.
Like women gathered at a fair, fair to look on and gently smiling, they incline to Agni. The streams of holy oil reach the fuel, and Jātavedas joyfully receives them.
As maidens adorn themselves with gay attire to join the bridal feast, I now behold them. Where Soma flows and sacrifice is ready, there run the streams of holy oil.
Send to our eulogy a herd of cattle, bestowing upon us excellent possessions. Bear to the Gods the sacrifice we offer, the streams of oil pure and full of sweetness.
The universe depends on your power and might within the sea, within the heart, within all life.