Those who listen to, sing, or respectfully approve of these sacred teachings—those who are devoted and faithful—attain true devotion to me. For the saint who has gained such devotion, what remains to be achieved? Immersed in me, the infinite, the very embodiment of Brahman and bliss, he finds fulfillment beyond all else. Just as one who draws near a blazing fire dispels cold, fear, and darkness, so too does one who associates with the holy dispel the afflictions of worldly existence. For those tossed about in the dreadful ocean of birth and death, the saints—knowers of Brahman, tranquil and wise—are like a sturdy boat, offering safe passage to those who are drowning. Food is the very life of living beings; I am the refuge for the distressed; righteousness is the wealth that endures after death; and saints are the shelter for those who are fearful in this world. Saints give vision, shining like the rising sun; and among gods, relatives, and even myself, all are to be known as saints. Thus, O Vaitasena, after Urvashi, indifferent to worldly realms and free from attachment, wandered this earth, delighting in her own self. Now, consider the subtle elements: softness and hardness, coldness and heat—these are qualities of touch, which is the subtle property of air. Movement, gathering, acquisition, leadership among objects and sounds, and the essence of the senses are all the characteristic actions of air. From the subtle element of touch belonging to air, and by divine influence, form arose. Then came light, and with it, the eye became the means of perceiving form. The state of being a substance, the quality of being a property, and the individuality of an entity—these are the functions of pure form for fire. Illumination, cooking, heating, burning, dispelling cold, drying, and causing hunger and thirst—these are the functions of fire. From pure form, transformed by fire and impelled by the divine, pure taste arose; from that, water came forth, and the tongue became the organ for perceiving taste. Astringent, sweet, bitter, pungent, sour—by various combinations, the single taste is differentiated, as the elements transform. Moistening, solidifying, satisfying, sustaining life, nourishing, delighting, quenching heat, and abundance—these are the functions of water. From pure taste, transformed by water and impelled by the divine, arose pure scent; from that, earth was formed, and the nose became the organ for perceiving scent. Due to differing combinations of material components, the single scent is distinguished as earthy, putrid, fragrant, mild, strong, sour, and so on. Earth serves as the ground for formation, the abode of Brahman, the support, and the source of true distinction—the emergence of all qualities in beings. Each sense is attuned to a special quality: hearing is for space, touch for air, sight for fire, taste for water, and smell for earth. A property is observed in one thing but not another, due to their combinations; thus, the full distinction of entities is recognized only in earth. When these seven principles—beginning with the great principle—combine, endowed with time, action, and qualities, they enter into the primordial form of the universe. From this union, thus penetrated and joined, the inert cosmic egg arose. From that cosmic egg emerged the Cosmic Person, who rose as Virāṭ. This cosmic egg, surrounded in order by ten successive coverings—beginning with water and so on—and enveloped by primordial matter, is where the expanse of worlds exists; this is the very form of the blessed Hari. Rising from the golden cosmic shell, lying upon the waters, the great god entered the egg and split open the space in many ways. First, his mouth was opened, and from it, speech arose; from speech came fire. Then his nostrils opened, from which breath arose, and from breath, the sense of smell. From the sense of smell came air; then the eyes opened, from which sight arose, and from sight, the sun. Next, the ears opened, from which hearing arose, and from hearing, the directions. Virāj split open the skin, from which hair and body hair emerged; then appeared the plants, and after that, the generative organ was formed. From semen came water; the anus was formed and opened. From the anus came apāna, and from apāna, death—the terror of the world. The hands were formed and opened; through them, strength arose, and from strength, Indra. The feet were formed and opened; through them, movement arose, and from movement, Viṣṇu. His veins were opened, and from them, blood was filled, giving rise to rivers. The abdomen was opened next. Then hunger and thirst arose, and the ocean became their support. His heart was split, and from the heart, the mind emerged. From the mind, the moon was born; from intellect, the lord of speech; from ego, Rudra; and from consciousness, the inner witness. Yet, though these deities had arisen, they could not make the Cosmic Person rise. Each re-entered its respective place, seeking to awaken him in turn. Fire entered the mouth as speech, but the Cosmic Person did not rise. Air entered the nostrils as smell, but he did not rise. The sun entered the eyes as sight, but he did not rise. The directions entered the ears as hearing, but he did not rise. Herbs entered the skin with hair, but he did not rise. Waters entered the genitals with semen, but he did not rise. Death entered the anus with apāna, but he did not rise. Indra entered the hands with strength, but he did not rise. Viṣṇu entered the feet with movement, but he did not rise. Rivers entered the veins with blood, but he did not rise. The ocean entered the abdomen with hunger and thirst, but he did not rise. The moon entered the heart with the mind, but still, the Cosmic Person did not rise.