To him, the well-known, the wise Creator, ancient and glorious, I sing this hymn. Enthroned in oil, the Asura, giver of bliss, is Agni, steadfast support of noble, rich people.
By sacred law they upheld order, by the power of sacrifice, in the highest heaven— Those who reached with born men to the unborn, men seated on that support, heaven’s firm foundation.
Averting sorrow, they strive hard to bring him, the ancient, abundant food as unshakable power. May he, newly born, defeat his attackers: around him they stand like a fierce lion.
Like a mother nurturing and cherishing every living being, she spreads out to nourish, cherish, and regard them all— Consuming all the strength you’ve gained, you wander round in various forms.
May strength protect the limits of your vigor, God! That wide stream that bears riches. You, like a thief who keeps his refuge hidden, helped Atreya to great wealth through teaching.