O great sage, listen as I recount the wondrous origins of my sacred place of worship. It is renowned as Brahmagiri, and its vast expanse stretches for eighty-four yojanas. To the east of Brahmagiri lies my consecrated site; at its very heart stands the altar, and to its south burns the gārhapatya fire, ever sacred. There, too, I established the āhavanīya fire. Yet, as the scriptures declare, no sacrifice can succeed without a wife. Thus, to fulfill the requirements of the sacred rite, I took a momentous step: I divided my own body in two. From one half, my wife was born, so the sacrifice might be accomplished. With the other half, as tradition tells, I myself became the husband. For the clarified butter, I prepared the excellent season of spring, O Nārada. I gathered summer as the fuel, autumn as the offering, and the season of rains I made the sacrificial grass. In that holy place, the seven Vedic meters became the enclosing sticks of the altar, while the divisions of time—kalā, kāṣṭhā, and nimeṣa—were considered as the fuel, the vessels, and the sacred grass, respectively. Then, time itself—beginningless and endless—manifested as the sacrificial post and the binding rope for the sacrificial animal. The cords woven from the three qualities—sattva, rajas, and tamas—became the bonds. Yet, at that moment, there was no sacrificial animal present. In that void, I uttered the Vaiṣṇava speech, though I was without a body. I declared, "Without a sacrificial animal, this sacrifice cannot be completed." Then, the eternal and bodiless goddess addressed me: "With the hymn of the Puruṣa, praise that Supreme Person with manly strength." "So be it," I replied. As the Lord of gods, Janārdana—the very source of my being—I praised him with heartfelt devotion, chanting the hymn of the Puruṣa. Then the goddess spoke again: "O Brahman, make me the sacrificial animal, recognizing the Puruṣa as my eternal progenitor." By the side of the sacrificial post of time, I sprinkled the Puruṣa, who had been established there by the bonds of the qualities and placed upon the sacred grass, for he had now appeared before me. In that very moment, all creation sprang forth from him: from his mouth were born the Brāhmaṇas, from his arms the Kṣatriyas. From his mouth also came Indra and Agni; from his breath, the wind arose; from his ears, the directions; and from his head, the whole of heaven was formed. From his mind, the moon emerged; from his eyes, the sun; from his navel, the mid-space; and from his thighs, the people. From his feet, the Śūdras were produced, and the earth itself was born; from his hair follicles, the seers, and from his hair, the plants. Domestic and wild animals came from his nails; from his anus and genitals arose worms, insects, and flying creatures. Thus, all that is stationary and moving, visible and invisible, came forth from him. From me, the gods were again produced. At that moment, Viṣṇu himself addressed me with divine speech: "Everything has become complete; creation has arisen just as desired. Now offer the vessels, both ordinary and special, into the fire. Likewise, remove the sacrificial post, the prepared sacred grass, and all that is in the form of the officiating priests, the sacrifice, the objects of meditation, and contemplation. Release the ladle, the Puruṣa, the bonds—release everything, O Brahman." As those words were spoken, I performed the prescribed acts in due order, offering all into the sacred fires—the gārhapatya, the dakṣiṇāgni, and so forth. Even as one offers oblations in order, one should contemplate the Cosmic Person, the source of the universe, in every place. Purified by mantra and pure in conduct, the deity of sacrifice—who is the embodiment of the universe, lord of the worlds, and creator of all—becomes present at those sacrificial pits. Viṣṇu himself, in his many forms, abides in the fires: as white in the Āhavanīya fire; as dark in the southern fire; as yellow in the householder’s fire, O sage. At all times, Viṣṇu is present in these places; truly, there is nothing anywhere that is without Viṣṇu, the source of all. After leading forth the consecrated water with mantras, that water is called 'praṇīta,' and even the auspicious river is known by that name. When this praṇīta water is set forth and purified with kuśa grass, as the act of purification is performed, drops of praṇīta water fall. Wherever those drops have fallen, sacred fords arise, endowed with great merit, O best of sages. Bathing in those fords grants the fruit of sacrifice. Always adorned by the god of gods, the wielder of Śārṅga, these fords, with their series of steps, serve as the means for all to ascend to Vaikuṇṭha. Where the purified kuśa grass has touched the blessed earth, the kuśa offering is made, bestowing abundant merit. All those who are satisfied with kuśa grass are said to have received the kuśa offering. Afterwards, the sacred river Gautamī also joined there for another reason. When the praṇīta water was present, O wise one, the gathering of praṇīta occurred; at the place of the kuśa offering, that ford is called Kuśatarpaṇa. There, north of the Vindhya mountains, I established a sacrificial post, which became revered throughout the world as a refuge of Viṣṇu. That sacred fig tree, glorious and inexhaustible, is eternal, taking the very form of time. By remembering it, one attains the merit of sacrifice. This worship of my deity is known as Daṇḍakāraṇya. When the sacrifice was completed, I propitiated Viṣṇu with devotion. He who is called the Cosmic Person in the Vedas, from whom the manifest form arose, from whom I myself was born, and by whom this world is transformed—having bowed to that Lord of gods, I established the auspicious place of my deity’s worship, extending for twenty-four yojanas.