Knowing the supreme Śiva, I offer my worship to the Lord. Realizing him as the very root of my own being, I bow to him with reverence. For the welfare of all the worlds, it is right to worship Śiva in the form of the liṅga, for he is the source and support of all. Thus, I worship the Lord of the self with my own self, recognizing our unity. O radiant one, in truth there is no difference between us—this is the ultimate conclusion of the Vedas. Maheśvara, manifest in the liṅga, is to be meditated upon, worshipped, honored, and known. O Krishna of wide and beautiful eyes, tell me more of this profound mystery, for it is truly the highest knowledge. The Vedas declare that the great Lord, the imperishable God, is the one who bears the liṅga. For the awakening of Brahma himself, Śiva manifested from me. Therefore, let us together worship the great Lord, desiring the welfare of all the worlds. Now, O Krishna, for the sake of understanding, you too should speak. In the midst of the single, boundless ocean, I lay eternally, bearing the conch, discus, and mace. With a thousand arms, united with my own self, I, the ancient one, rested there, radiant like millions of suns, shining forth in splendor. Then appeared the god with the dark blue throat, praised by the Ṛg, Yajur, and Sāma Vedas. At that moment, Brahma himself, brilliant and smiling, spoke: “I am the creator of the worlds, the self-born grandsire. Again and again, I create and dissolve the worlds.” Yet, for the sake of understanding, the supreme liṅga, of the very nature of Śiva, appeared before us—free from decay and growth, without beginning, middle, or end. Desiring to know its end, I, the unborn, ascended upward, but even after searching for a hundred years, I, the grandsire, could not find its limit. Bewildered by his māyā, we both meditated on the Lord of the universe. With hands joined in reverence, we praised the supreme Shambhu, offering salutations to Śiva, the peaceful one, the embodiment of Brahman, whose form is the liṅga. Again and again, we saluted him, repeating our homage with devotion and awe. The great yogi, the god, shone with a radiance equal to ten million suns. He possessed a thousand hands and feet, and his eyes were the sun, the moon, and fire. He wore a serpent as his sacred thread, and his voice resounded like the deep roll of a thundercloud. Manifesting before us, he declared: “Behold me, the great god; let all fear be released.” On his left was Viṣṇu, the protector; in his heart was Hara. Embracing Brahmā, the god became filled with grace. Seeing that divine face, Nārāyaṇa and Pitāmaha spoke with one voice: “May devotion to you, O great god, be constant in us always.