Hear now the sacred narrative, O seeker, as revealed in the verses. The Sun, radiant and pure, is praised as Indra, Vivasvan, Sauri, Shanaishchara, Brahma, Vishnu, Rudra, Skanda, Vaishravana, and Yama. He is lightning, the digestive fire, the fire fed by fuel, the lord of energies, the banner of righteousness, the maker of the Vedas, their limbs, and their vehicle. He is the four ages—Krita, Treta, Dvapara, and Kali—the refuge of all the gods, and the divisions of time: kala, kashtha, muhurta, nights, watches, and moments. He is the maker of the year, the Ashvattha tree, the wheel of time, fire, the eternal person, the yogi, the manifest and unmanifest, the ancient one. He oversees time and beings, creates the universe, dispels darkness, and is Varuna, the ocean, the portion, the rain cloud, the giver of life, and destroyer of enemies. He supports all beings, is their lord, honored by all worlds, the creator and destroyer, fire, the origin of all, and free from greed. He is Ananta, Kapila, Bhanu, giver of desires, facing all directions, victorious, vast, bestower of boons, and served by all beings. He is mind, Suparna, the origin of beings, swift-moving, sustainer of breath, Dhanvantari, Dhūmaketu, the primeval god, and son of Aditi. He is of twelve forms, Ravi, Daksha, father, mother, grandfather, the gate to heaven, progeny, liberation, and the highest heaven. He is the maker of bodies, tranquil of soul, the soul of the universe, facing all directions, the soul of the moving and unmoving, the subtle soul, Maitreya, and full of compassion. Thus, eight hundred beautiful names of the Sun, of boundless brilliance, are to be recited, O best of twice-born. I bow to Bhaskara, for the welfare of all, who is served by hosts of gods, ancestors, and yakshas, worshipped by asuras, night-wanderers, and siddhas, whose radiance is like gold and fire. Whoever, with focused mind, recites this at sunrise, obtains sons, wife, wealth, and treasures; such a person attains remembrance of past births, and gains supreme memory and intelligence. Whoever, with pure mind and concentration, recites this hymn to the best of gods, is freed from the ocean of the fire of sorrow, and obtains the desires of his mind as he wishes. Now, hear of the all-pervading god, the enemy of Tripura, the three-eyed one, beloved of Uma, Rudra, crowned with the crescent moon. Having driven away all the gods, siddhas, vidyadharas, rishis, gandharvas, yakshas, nagas, and others who had assembled, he first struck down Daksha’s sacrifice, which was being performed upon the earth—a prosperous rite, rich in jewels, furnished with every requisite. By his radiance, the dwellers of heaven—Indra and the others—were terrified, and the Brahmins found no peace, seeking refuge upon Kailasa. There abides the boon-giver, bearing the trident, bull-bannered, wielder of Pinaka, the blessed one, destroyer of Daksha’s sacrifice. Mahadeva, clad in skins, bull-bannered, in that timeless place, beneath the single mango tree, grants all desires. The sages questioned: For what reason did Bhava, devoted to the welfare of all beings, destroy Daksha’s sacrifice, adorned by all the gods? Surely, the cause was not trivial, O Lord; they longed to hear the story. Daksha had eight daughters, united with their husbands, brought from their homes, and honored in his house. After being honored, the Brahmins stayed in their father’s house; among them, the eldest was Sati, wife of Tryambaka. Daksha, hostile to Rudra, did not invite his own daughter; he made obeisance to Daksha, but Maheshvara received no honor. The son-in-law, steadfast in his nature and radiance, remained; then, knowing this, Sati, along with all the others, arrived at her father’s house. Sati, though uninvited, went to her father’s house; her father performed worship for all except Sati, which she disapproved. Overwhelmed with anger, the goddess spoke to her father: “I am superior to the younger ones—why do you not honor me, O Lord? You have placed me in a contemptible state, which is blameworthy. I am eldest and most distinguished; you ought to honor me.” Thus addressed, Daksha, his eyes reddened, spoke: “My daughters who are superior and distinguished, and their husbands, are worthy of honor, O Sati; they are greatly esteemed by me. They are Brahminical, observant of vows, great yogis, supremely righteous, and praiseworthy—all except for Tryambaka, O Sati. Vasishtha, Atri, Pulastya, Angiras, Pulaha, Kratu, Bhrigu, and Marichi—these are my most distinguished sons-in-law. Sharva competes with them, and all oppose him; therefore, I do not wish for you—Bhava is adverse to me.” Having spoken thus, Daksha, bewildered, uttered words for the purpose of cursing himself, as the great sages had said. Then, angered, the goddess spoke: “Because you reproach me, your own son, though I am without fault in word, thought, or deed, therefore, father, I now renounce this body.” Deeply pained and unable to bear the insult, the goddess respectfully addressed the Self-born: “By whose power I have left this body, may I, with a new radiant form, again be born unconfused and righteous, and become once more the lawful wife of the wise Tryambaka.” Seated, she composed her mind in anger, performing the fiery concentration, sustaining the fire within herself. Raising her own self, stirred by the wind, she departed from all her limbs, and the fire reduced her to ashes. Hearing of Sati's death and their conversation, the trident-bearer, understanding the truth, became enraged, O Lord, for the destruction of Daksha.