When the auspicious hour arrived, Hari filled the great conch, marking the sacred moment. It is said that even one whose body is afflicted by countless impurities and faults becomes free from sin merely by reciting the name of Hari. Now, who among poets, however ambitious, would dare to praise the Sun, who is already lauded by Brahma and the other sages? What is left uncreated by those wise sages, renowned for their mastery of scripture and the many arts and sciences? Yet, after deep contemplation, I resolve to praise the pair of feet of the Sun, revered even by the Guru of the three worlds. Until this praise is offered, the entire world remains unmoving; all actions fail to find success. The trees do not shine at their peaks, nor do the clusters of flowers close their eyes in the blooming forests. But when the Sun rises in the sky, all hosts—gods and siddhas, Brahma, demons, sages, kinnaras, men, nāgas, and yakṣas—stir and awaken. When you set, O Sun, the world falls asleep; when you shine again, it awakens. For those endowed with enthusiasm, strength, guidance, and valor, whose service, skill, and creative power are devoted to you, their efforts prosper. Whether in battle—amidst chariots, elephants, spears, javelins, arrows, wheels, shafts, and terrifying swords—or dwelling in difficult forests, fortresses, among bears, lions, and thorny thieves, you are the repository of brilliance, the refuge of the afflicted. In the whole world, there is none as compassionate as you. Who is struck by leprosy, who by enemies, who is afflicted by diseases, who is lame, blind, dull, whose feet are withered, or whose actions have failed? For all, you are the compassionate refuge. Righteousness, when served, indeed remains in the next world; in due time, the wise become grantors of boons. The Sun is adorned with eyes resembling those of a restless beloved deer, lovely hair, jeweled earrings, and girdles. O Lord of the worlds, even if you are worshipped just once, or remembered in any way, especially at the time of death, your grace is bestowed. But those whose minds are clouded by false reasoning, who do not bow to you with devotion, whose bodies do not thrill with piety, are deprived of your blessings. With eyes restless like the waves of the ocean, shining with the rays of jeweled hoods, the serpents lick as you pass. O best of gods, as you proceed, the lotuses of the rivers of the gods, stirred by the wind, follow you. Meditating on your true nature, standing again and again in the midst of the ocean, with rows of feet, your devotees contemplate your glory. As you are stationed on the slope of the eastern mountain, veiled at sunrise and sunset, your chariot moves through the sky, tearing apart the dense masses of darkness with its shining rays. With beautiful lotus-like eyes half-closed, and a girdle of chakravaka and swan birds, you are surrounded by beauty. The blue, charming lotus, crowded by high-stepping bees, flourishes in your presence. The spotless necklace of the shining moon, restless upon your lap, O bird-like Sun, adds to your splendor. So long as the green earth is enveloped in darkness, it remains unclean, until it is honored by your rays. You are Vishnu, you are the moon, you are the destroyer of demons, you are Shanmukha, you are the lord of wealth, you are Time, you are the creator, the refuge of the mountains and Malaya, you are fire itself. You are beyond reproach, protector of cows, destroyer of Tripura, burner of Kama, destroyer of the pride of terrifying demons—protect me. O Aditya, Bhaskara, Divakara, Saptasapti, Martanda, Surya, lord of the green horses, and Bhanu—O radiant ear-ornament of the eastern direction’s bride, beloved of Mandakini, lamp of the world—you alone are Brahman, truth, auspiciousness, lord of the worlds, lord of the sky, praised by sages, embodiment of the universe. With hands joined on my head like a budding lotus, I have praised you here today, O god, with devotion. Salutation to Savitr, the sole eye of the world, to you who are the cause of the world’s creation, preservation, and destruction. The Sun then spoke: “I will grant you a boon with effort—whatever is in your mind. For the sight of me is never fruitless at any time.” Arjuna replied: “This alone is the boon for me, the highest of all boons: that those humans who always praise you with devotion, bowing down, whatever is desired in their mind must be given—this is my boon.