Neither Brahmā, nor Govinda, nor even the ancient seers are able to truly fathom your immeasurable greatness, O Śiva. I pray that your subtle, mysterious forms may appear before me; let them surround me and protect me on all sides, just as a loving father shields his own son. Protect me, O faultless one, for I seek your shelter. I bow to you, Lord, compassionate to your devotees, and I am ever devoted to you. You alone stand at the edge of the cosmic ocean, enveloping countless beings, subtle and difficult to perceive—may you ever be my guardian. Salutations to you, Lord of Yoga, whom the ever-vigilant—those who have mastered their breath, are pure, and see all with equal vision—behold as radiant light in the stillness of meditation. When the end of the age arrives and the time is ripe, you consume all beings and rest in the midst of the cosmic waters; I take refuge in you, who recline upon those waters. You are he who, entering the mouth of Rāhu, drinks the moon at night, who devours the sun, becoming Svarbhānu, and who is, in truth, both the moon and fire. May those subtle beings, the size of a thumb, who dwell within the bodies of all creatures, always protect me and ever increase my well-being. By you, embryos are produced, and you are present in the waters and their portions—may all offerings, svāhā and svadhā, reach you, and may you enjoy them. By you, beings dwelling in bodies grow, weep, rejoice, and remain unharmed—salutations to you always. You reside in the ocean, in the strongholds of rivers, on mountains, in caves, at the roots of trees, in cow-pens, and in dense forests. You are present at crossroads, in streets, in public squares, in assemblies, among elephants, horses, and chariots, and even in ruined gardens and houses. You dwell within the five elements, in all directions and intermediate directions, between Indra and the sun, and in the rays of the moon and sun. You are found in the netherworlds and beyond them. Salutations to all these forms of yours, again and again. Truly, you are everything, O God—pervading all, lord of all beings, the inner self of every creature; therefore, you need not be specially invited. You alone are worshipped, O God, through sacrifices of every kind; you alone are the agent behind all actions, and so you need no invitation. Yet, perhaps by your subtle illusion I have been deluded, or for some other reason I did not invite you. Be gracious to me, O Lord of the gods; you alone are my refuge, my goal, and my foundation—there is none other for me. Having thus praised the great God, the wise one ceased. Śiva, well-pleased, spoke again to Daksha: “Daksha, I am satisfied with your hymn, O virtuous one. What need is there for many more words? You shall come near to me.” Thus spoke Bhava, lord of the three worlds, uttering words of reassurance and wisdom. “Daksha, do not grieve over the destruction of the sacrifice. I am the destroyer of the sacrifice, and you have witnessed this before, O sinless one. Again, O virtuous one, receive this boon from me. Listen with a devoted and steadfast mind, for I am gracious and well-disposed toward you. By my favor, O lord of creatures, you shall obtain the merit of a thousand horse sacrifices and a hundred Vājapeya sacrifices. You shall master the Vedas with their six limbs, as well as all the branches of Sāṃkhya and Yoga, having performed great austerities, difficult even for gods and demons. For twelve years, hidden away and criticized by the ignorant, you will be governed by the duties of caste and stage of life, disciplined, and never swayed. The Pāśupata vow, for liberation from the bonds of animal existence, has been established by me for all stages of life, gathered and resolved. Daksha, this auspicious vow has been instituted by me to free from all sins; whatever abundant fruit comes from its proper observance, let that be yours, O greatly fortunate one. Let your mind abandon all distress. Having spoken thus, the Lord of the gods, with his wife and attendants, became invisible to Daksha, whose splendor was immeasurable. Having received the share as declared by me, Bhava—the knower of all dharmas—then distributed the fever in many ways. For the peace of all beings, listen, O twice-born: the heat of the crest is for serpents, mountain rocks, and shilajatu. Nīlikā pertains to waters, nirmoka to serpents, khoraka to saurabheyas, and ūkhara to the earth. Among dogs, those who know dharma have their vision obstructed; among horses, it is said to be a flaw entering through the nostrils; among peacocks, it is the splitting of the crest. Among cuckoos, redness of the eyes is spoken of; among great souls, it is aversion; among people, division is also heard of among all, as tradition tells us. Among all parrots, hiccup is said to occur; fever is spoken of among tigers, O sages, and among them, fatigue and fever are mentioned here. Among humans, O all-knowing ones, this fever is named and described; it is present at death, at birth, and also abides in the midst of life. This is the mighty energy of Maheśvara, called fever, exceedingly fierce; he is to be worshipped and honored by all living beings, for he is the Lord. Whoever, with unwavering mind, always recites this origin of fever with concentration, that person becomes free from disease, attains happiness, and obtains all desired objects as they wish. Whoever praises or listens to this hymn spoken by Daksha does not encounter anything inauspicious and attains long life. Just as among all the gods, blessed Bhava is supreme, so too is this hymn, created by Daksha, the foremost among hymns.