Listen, O seeker, to the wise counsel woven through these sacred verses. Consider first the nature of desire and attainment: even if women dwell at the deepest depths of the netherworld or are hidden behind formidable walls, if they lack hair, they remain unattainable—so who, then, could possibly obtain them? Thus, there are limits that no effort may cross. Reflect also on the harm that can arise from within: one who is sharp-witted, skilled in secrets, and yet a thorn to his own kin causes more pain than an open enemy. True danger often lies closest to home. Wisdom, too, is revealed in pleasing others according to their nature: a child is delighted by sweets, a student is shaped by discipline, a woman is pleased by wealth, the gods by austerity, and all people by proper conduct. Such is the way of the learned. Beware of false means: those who seek friendship through deceit, virtue through impurity, prosperity by harming others, knowledge by laziness, or women by force—they are not wise. Their efforts are fruitless, like a fool who fells a fruit-bearing tree for its fruit, only to find emptiness and blame. Some things defy belief: a wealthy ascetic, a laborer far from home, a drunkard, and a chaste woman—such combinations, O Brahmin, are rare indeed. Trust, too, must be measured. Never place faith in the untrustworthy, nor even in a friend without reservation; for in anger, a friend may reveal all secrets. The mark of virtue is to trust in all beings and show goodness to all, yet to conceal one’s own nature. In every endeavor, follow the example of the doer, but always act with courage and intelligence. The wise avoid certain things: old women, new wine, dried meat, three kinds of roots, curd at night, and daytime sleep. Poison manifests in many forms: gatherings among the poor, a young woman for the old, knowledge learned from a blade of grass, and food when indigestion is present—all these are to be avoided. Each finds joy according to their nature: songs delight those who are not hoarse, high seats please the lowly, gifts gladden the poor, and the earth cherishes young women. Diseases take root through excess and neglect—drinking too much water, eating hard foods, depleting the body, suppressing natural urges, sleeping by day, and keeping vigil by night. Exposure to the midday sun, excessive indulgence, cremation-ground smoke, warming the hands over fire, gazing at menstruating women, and combining these practices all diminish longevity. Dried meat, old women, the morning sun, fresh curds, intimacy at dawn, and untimely sleep—these six swiftly sap life. Likewise, freshly churned ghee, grapes, young women, milk-based foods, hot water, and the shade of a tree can quickly take away life. Yet, some things bring comfort in every season: well water, the shade of the banyan tree, and a woman’s breast are warm in the cold and cool in the heat. Strength is granted swiftly by oil massage for children, good food, and rest; it is lost just as quickly through travel, sexual indulgence, and fever. Dried meat, milk, and constant association with wives or enemies should not be partaken of with kings, for separation follows instantly. Even Lakshmi, the goddess of fortune, abandons those who wear dirty clothes, neglect their teeth, overeat, speak harshly, or sleep at sunrise and sunset—just as she would forsake even the wielder of the discus. Ruin comes to those who constantly cut grass, dig the earth, wipe their feet, neglect dental care, wear soiled clothes, have rough hair, sleep twice daily, lie unclothed, overeat, laugh excessively, or play music on their own body or bed—even Keshava’s fortune cannot withstand such habits. But prosperity returns to those who wash their head and feet, serve noble women, eat sparingly, avoid sleeping unclothed, and abstain on forbidden days. Wearing flowers on the head, especially the fragrant pāṇāḍara, wards off misfortune. The goddess of fortune dwells in the western shadow of a lamp, the shadow of a bed or seat, and the dust from the washerman. Those who seek long life should avoid the morning sun, corpse-smoke, old women, fresh curds, and dust from sweeping. Yet, the dust from elephants, horses, chariots, grains, and cows is auspicious, while the dust of donkeys, camels, and goats is inauspicious. The dust of cows, grains, and a son’s body is highly praised and destroys great sins, but the dust of goats, donkeys, and sweeping brings severe impurity. Beware also of wind from a winnowing basket, water from washing nails, bathing clothes, or hair, and dust from sweeping—all these destroy merit already gained. Certain boundaries must not be crossed: do not pass between two Brāhmaṇas, between a Brāhmaṇa and a sacred fire, between a married couple, a master and servant, nor between a horse and a bull. Who would place trust in women, kings, fire, serpents, sacred recitation, serving an enemy, or the pursuit of pleasure? Trust must be measured, for even trust in the trustworthy can lead to fear and loss at the root. After making peace with an enemy, to remain trusting is as dangerous as sleeping atop a tree—one awakens only after falling. One should not be excessively gentle or harsh; the gentle are overcome by the gentle, the harsh by the harsh. Excessive straightforwardness is also unwise, for straight trees are cut down while crooked ones endure. Fruit-bearing trees bend low, and virtuous people are humble; dry trees and fools neither bend nor yield, but break. Opportunities should be seized as they come, just as sorrows arrive uninvited and pass away. Be cautious with the noble, acting with care and generosity; with the ignoble, act as you wish. A secret shared with six ears will be revealed; with four, it is safe; but even Brahmā cannot know the secret kept between two. Consider also: what use is a cow that neither gives milk nor bears a calf? What value is a son who is neither learned nor righteous? Thus, O seeker, is the tapestry of wisdom woven—guiding one to right conduct, discernment, and the path of lasting prosperity.