The Earth herself spoke, her voice carrying the weight of ages: “How is it that delusion arises even among wise kings? Though they share the same duties, their minds become so trusting that they fall into error. First, ministers conquer themselves and then set out to conquer others—servants, citizens, and enemies alike. They think, ‘By this progression, we shall conquer the entire earth, bounded by the oceans.’ Their minds become attached to this vision, blind to death standing close at hand. They imagine the ocean as their boundary and the world as their domain. But what is truly gained by conquering oneself, and what is the fruit of such conquest? Kings, lost in delusion, abandon their ancestors and depart alone, yet still desire to possess me, the Earth. Because of me, conflict arises between fathers and sons, and even brothers, all due to the deep delusion and attachment that clouds their hearts. Time and again, people think, ‘This whole earth is mine; it belongs to me and my lineage forever.’ Yet, whoever became king after death elsewhere harbored this same mistaken thought. I see minds bound by attachment, leaving me and falling under the sway of death. How does this attachment, born from me, take hold in the hearts of those who follow after? Kings send messengers to their enemies, saying, ‘This earth is mine—abandon it at once!’ Among them, attachment to me is excessive, yet compassion arises again for the deluded. Thus, Maitreya, these are the verses of the Earth-song. When heard, attachment melts away, just as snow vanishes in the heat of the sun. O Maitreya, I have thus recounted to you the lineage of Manu, in which kings are portions and sub-portions of Viṣṇu, the sustainer of the world. Whoever listens with devotion to this lineage, in its proper order, is freed from all sin, and his soul becomes pure. He who hears the illustrious lineages of the moon and the sun attains incomparable wealth and prosperity, his senses undisturbed. Consider Ikṣvāku, Jahnu, Māndhātṛ, Sagara, Avikṣit, Raghu, Yayāti, Nahuṣa, and others—all mighty, powerful kings with endless stores of wealth. Their stories remain only as tales, for they were overcome by time and destiny. The wise, having heard this, do not develop attachment to sons, wives, homes, fields, or possessions. Even those heroic men who performed austerities for countless years, who offered great sacrifices and possessed immense strength—their stories linger only as remnants, for they too were overcome by time. Pṛthu, who traversed all worlds and was undefeated, was destroyed by the wind of time, like silk cotton thrown into fire. Kārtavīrya, who subdued all the continents and destroyed his enemies, is now only spoken of in stories, his reality lost to imagination and doubt. The splendor of the ten-headed Rāvaṇa, which illuminated all directions, was reduced to nothing in a moment by the mere frown of the destroyer of Tripura, leaving not even ashes among the Raghavas. The emperor Māndhātṛ, famed throughout the earth, is now only the subject of stories. Who, after hearing this, could still cling to possessiveness, thinking it virtuous? Bhagīratha and others—Sagara, Kakutstha, the ten-headed one, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, Yudhiṣṭhira and the rest—these truly existed, not falsely; but where are they now? We do not know. Those kings who are present now, and those yet to come, whom I have described as most illustrious among the Brāhmaṇas, will all become as those before them. Knowing this, a wise man should not harbor possessiveness, even towards his own self—let alone sons, wives, fields, and other embodied beings. Maitreya then spoke, “O great sage, you have described in full the expansion of the royal line and narrated their deeds as they occurred. Now, I wish to hear in detail the true account of the portion-incarnation of Viṣṇu, who was born in the Yadu dynasty. O sage, tell me of the deeds performed by the blessed Supreme Person, who descended to earth in part and in portion.” Śrī Parāśara replied, “Maitreya, listen to what you have asked—the deeds of Viṣṇu, who appeared in part and in portion for the good of the world. Long ago, Vasudeva married Devakī, the daughter of Devaka, a most fortunate woman, radiant as a goddess. Kamsa, the son of Bhoja, became their charioteer at their wedding, guiding Vasudeva and Devakī united in matrimony. Suddenly, a voice thundered from the sky, addressing Kamsa with authority: ‘Fool, you are driving this woman, standing with her husband on the chariot. Her eighth child will take your life.’ Upon hearing this, the mighty Kamsa drew his sword and prepared to kill Devakī. But Vasudeva spoke calmly, ‘O sinless one, you must not kill the blessed Devakī. I will hand over to you all the children born from her womb.’ Kamsa, accepting Vasudeva’s word, said, ‘So be it,’ and did not kill Devakī. At that very moment, the Earth, oppressed by a great burden, went to Mount Meru and entered the assembly of the gods. There, bowing before Brahmā and all the gods, she spoke with words filled with distress and compassion: ‘Fire is the foremost teacher of gold; among cows, the Sun is the supreme teacher; and for all beings—myself included—Nārāyaṇa is the teacher. The lord of the progenitors, Brahmā, the earliest of the ancients, is time itself, composed of moments, instants, and measures, and possesses an unmanifest form. He is the portion present in all these—the assembly of you, O best of gods. The Ādityas, Sādhyas, Rudras, Vasus, the Fires, the Pitṛs, and those who are the creators of the worlds, led by Atri—’ Thus, the Earth pleaded to the gods, setting the stage for the descent of the Supreme Person, Viṣṇu, for the good of the world.