O best of sages, listen as I recount the wondrous workings of clouds, rain, and the divine chariot of the sun, as described in the ancient lore. Thunder, which echoes across the heavens, arises in three distinct ways: from the wind, from lightning, and from fire. These threefold origins give birth to the clouds that we see above. The very name ‘megha’ is given to clouds because they do not fall to earth; instead, they are held aloft, as if by wings. These wings, said to be of Brahmā, are of many kinds and bear even wood upon them. From the union of clarified butter and wood, fire is kindled, and from that fire, smoke arises. This is one kind of smoke. A second kind is born from the breath of Brahmā himself. Then, with the wings of the mountains—wings that Indra, the king of gods, once cut—the auspicious clouds of fire move to their appointed places in the sky. All clouds, whether born from Brahmā’s breath, from the branches of the wind, or from wings such as those of Puṣkara and others, pour down rain when the season is ripe. Some clouds are mute, others are noisy, and some are impure, but each performs its function in due order. Those clouds that carry cold winds bring scanty rain, but they do so over a long period. There are also the ‘jīvaka’ clouds, weak and without thunder, which float at a distance of a krośa from the earth’s surface. The clouds that dwell among the mountains are found at half a krośa, while those that pour abundant rain from their excellence dwell at a yojana’s distance above the earth. From the earth’s surface, clouds endowed with lightning arise, and their rain is said to be of three kinds. The greatest clouds, born from wings and the Kalpa trees, dwell among the mountains. At the end of a Kalpa, these clouds shower rain at night, bringing about the destruction of the autumnal season. In those times, when birds and lotuses and others pour down water, the entire ocean is filled, and there, the supreme Lord, without equal, takes his rest. The smoke that arises from fire, from the breath of beings, from birds, and from clouds is always known to be nourishing. In the Pundra region, all rains are born of lightning, bringing coolness and abundant crops. The dew and frost that fall there are the droplets of the serpents. The sacred Ganges, born of her own waters, is filled by the rain and mountain streams, crowded with the rivers that descend from the mountains and the elephants of the quarters. The water that separates from the clouds is mostly carried away by the wind called Parāvaha, which delivers it to the teacher of Ambika. After surpassing the lord of Mena, the remaining rain falls upon the land of Bharata, increasing the bounty of the western regions. Thus, O twice-born, the rains have been described as twofold, for the increase of all things. Now, let me briefly explain the two kinds of crops, as I understand them. The creator, the sun of great brilliance, the all-seeing pervader—he himself, O best of the twice-born, is truly the supreme Lord Shiva. He is the energy, the vigor, the strength, the fame, the eye, the ear, the mind, death, the self, anger, the directions, and the quarters. He is truth, order, wind, the sky, and the one who moves in the sky; he is the guardian of the world—Hari, Brahma, Rudra—indeed, the great Lord himself. He shines with a thousand rays, glorious, eight-armed, most auspicious, with a form that is half-female, manifestly three-eyed, and the lord of the gods. By his grace alone, O twice-born, rain arises in many forms. With his rays, he draws up water, only to release it a thousandfold. There is neither true destruction nor increase of water, as he wills it; the wind, established in the pole star, gathers the rain once more. Water emerges from the planets, from the sun, and throughout the circle of constellations, and at the end of its journey, it enters the sun, established by the pole star. Now, O twice-born, listen as I briefly describe the solar chariot, the chariot of the moon, the movements of the other planets, and the bearer of water. The solar chariot was created by Brahma for a divine purpose. It is composed of the parts of the year and is the abode of all the gods, especially the sun. It has a golden wheel with three naves and five spokes, measuring nine thousand yojanas in both length and breadth. The axle, twice as long as the platform, is measured accordingly. Seven steeds, fashioned from the sacred meters, are harnessed to the chariot, though they are unyoked; wherever the wheel stands, there stand these seven horses. The axle is fixed to the pole, and the wheel, with its steeds, revolves; the pole itself, driven by the winds, propels the radiant lights. Two rays of the chariot are joined at the ends of the yoke and axle, and, bound by rays to the pole, the yoke and axle revolve together. As the chariot moves, circles are formed in the heavens; the ends of the yoke and axle are found on the right side of the chariot. Held by the pole and by reins attached to the horses, the rays follow the pole as the chariot turns. The end of the yoke and axle of this wind-driven chariot is fixed to a stake, and, like a rope, it revolves in all directions. During the sun’s northern course, the rays increase the circles; as it turns south, the circles are formed anew. When the rays, governed by the pole, are drawn in, the sun, remaining within, moves in circles. There are eighty hundred circles between the two sections; when the rays, released by the pole, return, the sun moves in circles externally, swiftly unwinding the circles as he goes. Thus, the gods and sages worship day and night, always honoring Bhāskara, the lord of existence, who sustains all worlds with his radiant presence.