The terrible poison known as Kālakūṭa, blazing with the fury of the fire of time itself, had emerged. Before its dreadful power, neither Viṣṇu, nor I, nor even the foremost of the gods could stand unscathed. In the midst of this calamity, Brahmā, the self-born one, lotus-seated and not born of any womb, spoke with gravity. Then, as the best among those who know the Vedas, Brahmā began to offer praise, turning his heart and words to the mighty Lord. He bowed and offered salutations to the bearer of the Pināka bow and to the wielder of the thunderbolt. He praised the destroyer of the enemies of the gods, the one whose eyes are the moon, the sun, and fire. He offered homage to Sāṃkhya, to Yoga, and to all the hosts of beings, to the very source of the gods, to Rudra, the god of gods, the swift one. Brahmā honored the skull-bearer, the deformed, the auspicious, the bestower of boons, the ancient, the pure, the liberated, and the strong. He praised the foremost, the fierce, the wise, and the one with many eyes; the eternal, the non-eternal, and the one who is both; the conceivable, the inconceivable, and the one who is both conceivable and inconceivable. He offered salutations to the beloved of Umā, to Śarva, and to the one marked with the face of Nandi; to the one of many forms, the shaven-headed, the staff-bearer, and the armored one; to the archer, the charioteer, the controller, and the celibate. Having thus praised him, Brahmā bowed to the one with the beautiful face and spoke with reverence: “You are subtle, inconceivable through supreme yoga; truly, O Lord Rudra, you do not assume a manifest form.” The Lord responded, “I have been praised with many hymns, arising from the Vedas and their branches. O Lord of past, present, and future, master of the worlds, ruler of the universe—” Hearing this, Brahmā, lotus-eyed and radiant, replied: “When the ocean was churned by gods and demons, O lotus-eyed one, a terrible poison arose, blazing like the fire of dissolution. For the welfare of all the worlds, O Mahādeva, drink that poison. Except for you, O Mahādeva, there is no one able to withstand its force.” Mahādeva accepted Brahmā’s words, saying, “So be it.” And then, O beautiful-faced one, I drank that most terrible poison, which filled even the gods with fear. As I drank it, it appeared like a lotus petal, as if a serpent clung to my throat. Seeing this, the mighty Brahmā, grandsire of the worlds, spoke again. Having heard his words, O daughter of the mountain, I acted accordingly. The Yakshas, Gandharvas, Bhutas, Pisachas, Nagas, and Rakshasas all looked on. When the assembly of gods and demons saw the poison thus contained, they were filled with great wonder. With joined hands, they spoke in awe, their voices trembling as if in the presence of a proud, intoxicated elephant: “Ah! Your strength, your valor, and your prowess are astonishing; truly, your form and the power of your yoga, O Lord, are beyond compare. You alone are Viṣṇu, you are the four-faced Brahmā, you are Death, you are the bestower of boons. You alone are fire, you are wind, you alone are earth, you are water.” Then, arriving in celestial chariots, propelled by the speed of the wind, all the gods and beings reached the great mountain Meru. This tale is the supreme secret, most holy among the holy, and truly great. Spoken by Svayambhū himself, it destroys all sin. Now, I shall declare the fruit of this story, vast and immeasurable.