Listen, O wise one, to the ancient and sacred account of the Cosmic Lord, whose very form encompasses the universe itself. It is said that Taurus, presided over by the Moon, is declared to be his mouth. The sign of Gemini becomes his powerful arms—he who stands resplendent in the sky, the trident-wielder. The sign ruled by the Sun, O Brahman, is celebrated as the very heart of this mighty Lord. The house of the Moon’s son, the second sign, is known as his belly. Libra, the second house of Venus, is declared to be his navel. Scorpio, the second sign, forms the genitals of the One who is Time itself. The Lord’s thighs are spoken of in pairs, O sage among the immortals. Half of Dhanishtha and Shatabhishā are revered as the knees of the Supreme Lord. The primary house of Saturn, Aquarius, is established as his shanks, while Pisces, the second house of Jupiter, are both his feet. Thus, pierced and freed from all pain and thought, he stands in the sky, his celestial body adorned with countless stars. Now, O Nārada, listen as the characteristics and true forms of these signs are described. Each has its own manner of movement and place of dwelling. Their domains extend into grains, gems, and such; they are found among blooming flowers and on the banks of tranquil lakes. The earth is their dwelling place, with the fields as their refuge. Among singers, dancers, and artists, the skillful pair who play the vīṇā are celebrated. The sign of dual nature is known by name, and is found in fields, reservoirs, and secluded riverbanks as well. He dwells in hunters’ villages, mountain caves, and deep caverns, and moves in places of women’s pleasure, or among thickets of reeds. He can be found in city roads and inns, and among poisons, cow dung, insects, and stones. He is a hero, skilled with horses and weapons, steadfast among elephants and chariots. The makara moves in rivers and dwells in the vast ocean. The pot frequents gambling houses and remains in the homes of wine-sellers. Yet he also dwells in holy places, in the homes of gods and Brāhmaṇas. This ancient secret, O Nārada, must not be revealed to just anyone. I have declared to you this supreme and pure tale, which destroys sin and brings auspiciousness to all who hear it. Now, hear further of the Lord’s family. Dakṣāyaṇī was his wife, and she bore him sons. Among them were Hari and Kṛṣṇa, ever devoted to the practice of yoga. Gentle in nature, they performed severe austerities, bearing the steadfastness of ancient bulls. On the broad bank of the sacred Ganga, the two brothers made their home, ever absorbed in contemplation of the Supreme Brahman. As they engaged in their rigorous austerities, Indra, the lord of the heavens, became disturbed. Fearing the power of their penance, he sent the foremost Apsarases, led by Rambha, to that great hermitage. With them, Vasanta, the very spirit of spring, accompanied Indra. Arriving at the hermitage of Badari, they began to sport as they wished. The trees, usually stripped of leaves, shone with beauty as they touched the earth, now adorned by the season. The lion of spring had arrived, decked in the blossoms of the palāśa tree. Vasanta, radiant and joyful, laughed aloud, adorned with the tender buds of jasmine. Such is the wondrous tale, O sage—an ancient story of divine forms, cosmic secrets, and the play of gods and seasons on the sacred land.