Radiance shines in the sun, form graces the moon, the mountains stand steadfast, the wind moves with strength, fire burns with heat, water soothes with coolness, and sound echoes through the sky—these qualities, the wise know, arise from the unmoving, imperishable source. This source is the object of sacred recitation, the Great God, the supreme yogi, the great Lord. He is the Lord of cities, the dweller in caves, the one who moves through the sky and wanders the night. He is the treasury of austerity, the secret teacher, the bringer of joy, and the increaser of delight. He is horse-headed, ocean-born, the creator and sustainer of beings, the one to be known, the revealer and leader, unconquerable and unshakable. He rides a mighty chariot, performs fearsome deeds, is famed throughout the worlds. He is the conqueror of wealth, the lover of bells, the bearer of banners and umbrellas, the wielder of the bow Pinaka, and the lord of armies. Armored and armed with spear and sword, holding bow and axe, he is the destroyer of evil, sinless and heroic, king of the gods, crusher of enemies. By propitiating him in ages past, the gods have conquered their foes in battle, yet, like fire consuming the waters of the ocean, their desire to praise him is never quenched. Though formed of wrath, he remains serene in spirit, the granter and fulfiller of desires, beloved and celibate, unfathomable, devoted to the Veda, and honored by the virtuous. He is the inexhaustible treasury of the gods; sacrifice is founded upon him. The oblation offered according to the Veda is borne to him by fire, and when he is pleased, the gods themselves are pleased. He is the Lord of Bhavani, beginningless, the creator of all worlds and beings. The wise, knowing him as the supreme beyond nature, having exhausted their meditation, enter into immortality. Yogis, meditating on him as ever-perfect, renounce all other yogic practices; others, pure and serene, devoted through their own actions, attain divine enjoyments. According to their ability, the gods have praised his greatness, yet his essence is beyond reckoning. They pray that Shiva may be gracious everywhere, for he is who he is—salutations to him! Whoever recites this hymn to Brahman-Narayana with devotion, or has it recited by learned Brahmins, or listens to it with concentration, attains a merit equal to performing ten thousand horse sacrifices. Even a mortal of sinful conduct who listens to or recites this in Shiva’s presence is freed and attains the world of Brahma. Whether at a śrāddha, a divine rite, a sacrifice, or after a ritual bath, whoever recites this among the virtuous attains the presence of Brahman. Upon hearing such utmost humility and true praise, Shiva’s face became exceedingly joyful, his eyes like honey and copper. The lord of Umā, the three-eyed, destroyer of Dakṣa’s sacrifice, Pinākī, with the broken axe, Virūpākṣa, was greatly pleased. Though all-knowing, Mahādeva spoke playfully to the two before him, whose words were like nectar. He asked, “Who are you two, great souls, seeking each other’s welfare, united here, lotus-eaters, in this dreadful flood?” The two, having observed one another, replied, “O Lord, what is it today that you do not know, O mighty one?” They acknowledged that all had been done by Rudra’s will, and hearing their words, he joyfully welcomed them. Shiva, with sweet and gentle words, addressed Hiraṇyagarbha and Kṛṣṇa: “I am pleased by this devotion, joined with eternal syllables; both of you are dearest to my heart. What boon shall I grant you today, the most desired of boons?” Then Viṣṇu spoke, “Everything has been done for me, O god; if you are satisfied with me, let my devotion be firmly established in you, O Śaṅkara.” Recognizing and honoring Keśava’s request, Mahādeva granted Viṣṇu unwavering devotion to his own lotus feet. He blessed Viṣṇu, acknowledging him as the creator of all worlds and the supreme deity, and prepared to depart, offering his blessings to the lotus-eyed one. Turning to Brahmā, Śaṅkara touched him gently, declaring, “You are like me, there is no doubt, child, and you are my devotee. Blessings to you, I shall depart; let understanding arise, O virtuous one.” Having spoken thus, the blessed lord vanished. The leader of the hosts, worshipped by all gods, departed. Brahmā, having received understanding from Govinda, resolved to create beings and undertook severe austerity. Yet, despite his efforts, nothing came forth. After a long time, sorrow gave rise to anger, and as Brahmā was overcome, tears fell from his eyes. From those tears, beings of great fortune and strength arose, possessing the qualities of wind, bile, and phlegm, adorned with auspicious marks. These were serpents, with disheveled hair and filled with deadly poison. Seeing these elder serpents, Brahmā reproached himself, lamenting, “Alas! Fie upon my austerity if such is its result, for my very first creation has become the cause of the world’s destruction.” Overwhelmed by faintness from anger and indignation, the lord of creatures, afflicted by this swoon, gave up his life. From his incomparable body, moved by compassion, eleven Rudras, weeping, emerged. Because of their weeping, they came to be called Rudras; these Rudras are the vital breaths, and those vital breaths are their very essence.