The hero whose vision is not dim is formidable; purity is his thought. From him the brave ones do not turn away; where does the warrior dwell but in the forest of heroes?

When the fearful flames of you, whose appearance is (as) faultless as (that of) the sun, spread on every side as (if they were) the lowing heifers of the night, then this Agni, the asylum of all, genitive rated in the woods, is everywhere beautiful.

Bright God, whose look is free from stain like Surya's, thou, swift, what time thou earnestly desirest, Hast gear to give us. Come with joy at evening, where, Child of Wood, thou mayest also tarry.