When, O Lord of the Word, the Wise established
Name-giving, the first principle of language,
Their inmost essence, pristine and pure,
Hidden deep within, was brought to light through love.
When the Wise created language with the mind,
As winnowing ground barley with a sieve,
Friends acknowledged the essence of friendship;
Upon their speech was impressed the mark of grace.
With devotion they walked the path of the Word
Which they saw abiding within the Seers.
They drew it out, ordering it all ways.
The Word which Seven Singers exalt.
Many a man who sees does not see the Word
And many a man who hears does not hear it.
Yet for another Vach reveals herself like
A radiant bride yielding to her lord.
Another man is apt to be uncaring;
Unmoved to act with daring,
All tangled in vain imaginings;
The word he hears bears no flower or fruit.
He who forsakes a companion in knowledge
Lacks every avenue for sharing the Word.
In truth, what he hears, he hears to no avail,
He cannot percieve the path of right action.
To all companions are eyes and ears bestowed,
Yet each man differs in the quickness of his mind.
Some are like deep refreshing lakes,
Others, alas, like shallow pools.
When Men of the Word, companions, worship,
Refining in their hearts flashes of insight,
Some attain awareness of knowledge,
Others wander mouthing empty words.
Those who move neither forward nor backward are
Not Men of the Word, nor refiners of essence.
Poor craftsmen, mishandling the Word,
Spinning frail threads of self-regard.
All companions rejoice in their victorious friend
Finding fulfillment at the journey’s end;
Nourishing them, he eases their pain,
For he is ever ready to venture forth.
When one man adds to the store of sacred verse,
Another sings hymns to banish confusion;
The Man of the Word gives knowledge of what is
And another gives measure to worship.
Rig Veda X 71 —Brihaspati