Listen, dear one, to the wondrous workings of my supreme illusion. When a being is born into this world, all memory of what came before is veiled—this, too, is the marvel of my illusion. Through the force of action, each soul is carried from place to place, never still, ever journeying—such is the power of my illusion. Consider the body: fingers, feet, arms, head, and waist; ears, eyes, skull, forehead, and tongue—all these are shaped and governed by my mysterious potency. Whatever is eaten or drunk by a living being is digested by the inner fire I have established within. The senses—sound, touch, form, taste, and smell—arise, each with its own domain, manifesting in both the moving and the unmoving, in all seasons and all forms. There are celestial waters above and terrestrial waters below, the very foundation upon which all things rest. When the rains descend, ponds and lakes abound with water. From the snowy heights of the Himalayas flows the sacred river Mandākinī. The clouds, having drawn water from the salty ocean, carry it far and wide. Living creatures, when afflicted by disease, seek out great medicinal herbs. Yet even with medicine, sometimes death comes, for such is the way of destiny. First, the embryo takes shape; then, a person is born. In time, the senses fade and perish—this, too, is the play of my illusion. My power of illusion is ever-present, manifesting in myriad ways—like a tree adorned with leaves, it flourishes. By this illusion, I release the nectar of immortality again and again. Assuming the swift form of Garuḍa, I carry myself by myself, transcending all bounds. Through this illusion, I perform sacrifices for the dwellers of heaven. Taking on the Angirasa illusion, I inspire the gods to offer their own sacrifices. As Varuṇa, I protect the vast ocean; as Kubera, I guard the treasures of the world. In the form of Śākra, I vanquished the mighty Vṛtra. By illusion, I fashioned the golden mountain Meru and bear aloft the sun. Becoming the submarine fire, I drink up the waters of the deep. If one asks, "Where does that water remain?"—know that by my illusion, it abides as the essence of medicinal plants in the forests. Through royal illusion, I protect the earth itself. Entering all beings, O Earth, I weave illusion throughout the world. With a radiant, illusory form, I fill the entire universe. Taking up the power of dissolution, I envelop the universe in my being. My endless illusion sustains all creation, and within it, I also rest in cosmic sleep. Where the gods themselves seek refuge, that is none other than my illusion. O beautiful-hipped one, you have been upheld for seventeen floods by this same power of illusion, by which I abide in the waters. Even the gods, deluded by my illusion, cannot comprehend its true nature. I take up the illusion composed of the ancestors, and through its influence, a sage, following the path of illusion, entered the womb of a woman. With hands joined in reverence, he spoke sacred words. Once again, he obtained womanhood and was placed within a woman's womb. Such is the vast and unfathomable power of my illusion, pervading all beings and all worlds, sustaining, protecting, and transforming the universe without end.