Having received the sacred instruction in yoga, the sages, upholding their vows and with minds deeply concentrated, were urged to practice with reverence and devotion. This teaching, the Lord Himself—master of all creation—had imparted long ago, desiring to bring forth the sons of Bhṛgu and other progenitors, and to guide those wishing to create. At that time, we, the lords of progeny, had not yet been inspired to bring forth living beings; but with this knowledge, which dispelled our darkness, we found ourselves eager to create the many forms of life. One who is always engaged, who recites this teaching with attention and devotion, soon attains the highest good, becoming steadfast in love for Vāsudeva. For here lies the supreme knowledge, the highest welfare for all beings: with this boat of wisdom, one may easily cross the difficult ocean of misfortune. Whoever, with faith, recites this praise of the Lord as sung by me, truly worships Hari, who is otherwise so difficult to approach. From this song, dear to the highest welfare, a person swiftly obtains whatever he desires. Whoever rises early, joins his palms, and with faith hears or recites this, is freed from the bonds of karma. O sons of the 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, your heart’s desire will be fulfilled. Now, hear of what transpired in Vraja. Out of anger, Indra, king of the gods, unleashed a torrent of rain, fierce as clubs, upon the inhabitants of Vraja, seeking to punish them and to challenge the wondrous lifting of Govardhana. Enraged, Indra summoned the destructive clouds known as Sāṃvartaka, commanding them with powerful words. He declared, “Behold the pride and arrogance of these cowherds, dwellers of the forest, who, trusting in Krishna—a mere mortal—have shown disrespect to the gods! Just as some, abandoning true inquiry, seek to cross the ocean of existence with rituals and the strength of words, these cowherds, relying on Krishna—a talkative, childish, arrogant, and ignorant one who fancies himself wise—have wronged me. Blinded by their own prosperity and puffed up by Krishna, let their pride be destroyed and their cattle ruined!” Determined, Indra mounted his mighty elephant Airāvata and, accompanied by the fierce wind-gods, set out to destroy the settlement of Nanda and the cowherds. At Indra’s command, the clouds, freed from restraint, began to torment Nanda’s village with relentless torrents. Lightning flashed, thunder roared, and fierce winds drove down water and hail. Rains poured in thick and thin streams, flooding the earth until neither high nor low ground could be seen. The animals trembled in the violent wind, and the cowherds and their women, suffering from the cold, sought refuge in Govinda. Covering their children with their bodies, shivering and distressed, they approached the feet of the Blessed Lord, crying out, “Krishna, Krishna, greatly fortunate one! O Lord, Gokula is under your protection—save us from the wrath of the gods, O beloved of your devotees!” Seeing the beings struck down by hail, Lord Hari understood this was the work of Indra’s anger. He said, “Because we interrupted Indra’s sacrifice, he now seeks our destruction, sending this extraordinary, fierce, stone-filled rain and violent wind. I shall 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 truly virtuous gods, there is no astonishment at the Lord; but for the unworthy, the breaking of their pride brings them peace. Therefore, I will protect this cowherd community, which has taken refuge in me, regards me as its lord, and whom I have accepted as my own. By my own power of yoga, I shall uphold my vow.” Having spoken thus, Krishna, with effortless grace, lifted Govardhana Mountain with one hand, as easily as a child holds up an umbrella. He called to the cowherds, “O mother, O father, O residents of Vraja, enter the hollow of the mountain with your cattle, as you find space. Fear not—the mountain will not fall from my hand, nor will the wind and rain harm you. Protection has been arranged for you.” Reassured by Krishna’s words, the people of Vraja, with their wealth, families, and dependents, entered the shelter of the mountain as space allowed. Abandoning hunger, thirst, pain, and even the desire for comfort, they watched in awe as Krishna held up the mountain for seven days without moving his feet. When Indra heard of Krishna’s wondrous power, he was utterly astonished. His pride shattered, he withdrew the clouds. As the sky cleared, the sun shone, and the terrible wind and rain ceased, Govardhana’s lifter spoke to the cowherds: “Come out, abandon your fear, O cowherds with your wives, wealth, and children. The storm has ended, and the rivers have receded.” The cowherds emerged, each taking their cattle, carts, and belongings, along with their women, children, and elders, moving slowly from the shelter. The Blessed Lord gently placed Govardhana Mountain back in its original place before the eyes of all, doing so playfully. Overwhelmed by love, the residents of Vraja quietly approached Krishna, embracing him and expressing their gratitude. The cowherd women, full of affection, worshipped him with joy, offering curds and unbroken rice, and showered him with their constant blessings. Yaśodā, Rohiṇī, Nanda, and Rāma—the strongest among the strong—embraced Krishna and, overcome with love, offered him their heartfelt blessings. In the heavens, the gods, Siddhas, Sādhyas, Gandharvas, and Cāraṇas rejoiced. They sang his praises and joyfully showered flowers upon the earth. Conches and kettledrums resounded in the sky, urged on by the gods, and the lords of the Gandharvas, led by Tumburu, sang in celebration. Thus was Krishna’s glory revealed to all, and the love of the people of Vraja for their Lord deepened forever.