You alone are the original Person, the source from whom all creation arises. By your inscrutable power, the qualities of passion, goodness, and darkness are distinguished, and from you emerge the great cosmic ego, space, air, fire, water, earth, the gods, the sages, and all living beings. Entering this creation by your own potency, you dwell within the fourfold body as a portion of the inner self. The wise recognize you as the one who, abiding within, enjoys the essence of the senses, savoring them as honey. You are the swift chariot of time, dragging all worlds along with irresistible force. The elements, subtle and inferred by their nature, are like masses of clouds, while you are like the mighty wind—unbearable and unstoppable. While people, intoxicated and distracted by thoughts of action, greedily chase after sense objects, you, ever vigilant, suddenly seize them—O Death!—like a snake licking up a mouse. Who among the wise would ever abandon your lotus feet, which are the very abode of honor and humility? Out of fear, even the fourteen Manus, the revered teachers of the worlds, worship you, lest they fall from their exalted positions. Therefore, O Brahman, Supreme Self, you are the refuge of the wise; when the universe trembles in fear of Rudra’s wrath, you alone are the shelter, free from all fear. So, noble sons of kings, remain pure, perform your own duties, and offer your intentions to the Lord—recite this praise, and may all be well for you. Worship that very Self, who abides within the self and dwells in all beings, constantly praising and meditating on Hari. Having received this instruction in yoga, maintaining the vows of sages, and with minds focused, may you all practice this with reverence. Long ago, the Lord, master of creation, spoke this to us, desiring to bring forth the sons of Bhṛgu and others, and to those wishing to create. We, the lords of progeny, were not inspired to create beings on our own; but with this knowledge, the darkness was dispelled, and we wished to create various creatures. Now, whoever is always engaged in reciting this attentively, soon attains the highest good, being devoted to Vāsudeva. Here, the supreme knowledge is the highest welfare for all; with this boat of wisdom, one easily crosses the difficult ocean of misfortune. Whoever, with faith, recites this praise of the Lord sung by me, worships Hari, who is otherwise hard to worship. From this, a person swiftly attains whatever he desires, for this song is dear to the highest welfare. Whoever, rising early, with joined palms and faith, hears or recites this, is freed from the bonds of karma. O sons of men-gods, this song, this praise of the Supreme Person, the Paramātmā, has been sung by me—recite it with focused mind as a great austerity, practice it, and in the end you will attain your desired goal. Now, hear of the wondrous event that unfolded in Vraja. Out of anger, Indra, the king of the gods, poured down a torrent of club-like rain upon the land, seeking to punish the inhabitants of Vraja and to challenge the lifting of Govardhana. Enraged, Indra summoned the destructive clouds called Sāṃvartaka and spoke with commanding words: “Ah! The pride and arrogance of these cowherds, dwellers of the forest, who, relying on Krishna—a mere mortal—have shown disrespect to the gods!” He continued, “Just as some, abandoning the science of true inquiry, attempt to cross the ocean of existence with rituals and strong actions, so too these cowherds, relying on Krishna—a talkative, childish, arrogant, ignorant one who thinks himself wise—have insulted me. Blinded by their own wealth and puffed up by Krishna, they destroy their pride born of prosperity and drive their cattle to ruin. I, mounting Airāvata, my elephant, shall go to Vraja, accompanied by the wind-gods with great force, intent on destroying Nanda’s cowherd settlement.” Śuka continued: Thus, commanded by Maghavan, the clouds, now freed from restraint, began to afflict Nanda’s village with torrents of rain. Lightning flashed, thunder roared, and fierce winds drove down water and hail. Streams of rain, thick and thin, poured incessantly into every chasm; the earth, flooded by torrents, was no longer visible—neither low nor high ground could be seen. The excessive, violent wind caused the animals to tremble. The cowherds and their women, afflicted by cold and fear, sought refuge in Govinda. Covering their heads and children with their bodies, distressed by the storm and shivering, they approached the feet of the Blessed Lord. With voices full of faith and desperation, they cried, “Krishna, Krishna, greatly fortunate one, O Lord, Gokula is under your protection; you must save us from the wrath of the gods, O lover of your devotees!” Seeing the beings struck down by hailstones and the suffering of his beloved people, Lord Hari understood that this calamity was caused by Indra’s anger. He said, “Because our sacrifice was interrupted by us, Indra, seeking our destruction, is sending this extraordinary, fierce, stone-filled rain and violent wind. Here, I shall properly counteract this with my own power of yoga. Out of the foolishness of those who consider themselves lords of the world, I will destroy their pride born of arrogance. For the gods who are truly virtuous, there is no astonishment at the Lord’s actions; but for the unworthy, the breaking of their pride brings pacification. Therefore, I shall protect this cowherd community, which has taken refuge in me, which considers me its lord, and which I have accepted as my own, by my own power of yoga; this is the vow I have undertaken.” Having spoken thus, Krishna, with one hand, effortlessly lifted Govardhana Mountain, just as a child would hold up an umbrella. Then the Blessed Lord said to the cowherds, “O mother, O father, O residents of Vraja, enter the hollow of the mountain with your cattle, as you find suitable. You need not fear the mountain falling from my hand, nor the wind and rain; protection has indeed been arranged for you.” Thus reassured by Krishna, the residents of Vraja, along with their wealth, families, and dependents, entered the hollow of the mountain as space allowed. Abandoning hunger, thirst, pain, and the desire for comfort, the people of Vraja gazed in wonder as Krishna held up the mountain for seven days, never moving his feet, their faith and love for him shining ever brighter through the storm.