He is the great liberator, the auspicious path for all beings, born resplendent with a golden armor, arising from the creative power, moving with irresistible strength—both upon the earth and as the ever-flowing stream. His presence is the very sound that issues from all musical instruments, the master of every melody and rhythm. He takes the form of a serpent, dwells in mysterious caves, garlanded and enigmatic, and knows the secret undulations of every wave. He upholds the three worlds and all the cycles of time, freeing all from the bonds of karma. He is the very bondage that restrains the lords of the asuras and the destroyer of enemies upon the battlefield. In the tranquility of Sāṅkhya, he is serenity itself, yet he is difficult to comprehend or dwell with. Honored by the virtuous, he is the one who overcomes, the knower of all distinctions, incomparable, and wise in the shares of every sacrifice. He pervades all places, moves everywhere, and yet remains difficult to approach. As the lord of every abode, he is immortal and golden, the very maker of gold, transcending sacrifice itself. He is the support of all, the foremost among those who bear the world’s burdens. His eyes are red and great—victorious and skillful. He gathers and restrains, acts and accomplishes, and wears a garment of serpent skin. He is both the foremost and the least, embodying all forms, granting all desires, ever bestowing favor. His strength is supreme, and he is the very form of strength. He gives every boon, the universal giver whose faces are everywhere, formless like space, yet appearing in many ways. He descends at will, moves unrestrained, and travels the heavens. With a fierce form, he radiates like the sun, his splendor streaming in countless rays. Swift as the wind and the mind, he moves even through the night. He dwells within all, abides in prosperity, and is the giver of instruction. Though actionless, he is the sage, self-luminous, the destroyer of ignorance, and the giver of a thousand gifts. He is the bird and takes the form of a bird, radiant and lord of all worlds. He is madness, the god of love and desire, the sacred fig tree, the giver of meaning and fame. As Vāmadeva, he is gentle, the east, the south, the dwarf, the accomplished yogi, the great sage whose aims are fulfilled, and the one who brings perfection. He is the mendicant and takes that form, the merchant, gentle and imperishable. He is Mahāsena, Viśākha, the sixth part, and the lord of cows. He wields the thunderbolt in his hand, supports all, restrains armies, and is the doer of both right and wrong. He is the palm tree, sweet, with honey-like eyes. Master of speech and strength, he is ever worshipped in hermitages and by those who seek refuge. Celibate, he moves among the worlds, everywhere present, knowing all inquiry. He is the lord of the northeast, supreme ruler, time itself, wanderer of the night, bearer of the Pinaka bow, abiding in causes and being their very essence. He is Nandi, bestower of joy, remover of affliction, lion, destroyer, time, creator, and grandsire. He is lord of Nandi and Nandi himself, the source and increaser of joy, remover of fortune, destroyer, time, Brahma, and grandsire. Four-faced, he is the great and beautiful emblem, its overseer, chief of gods and yogis, and bringer of the ages. He is the overseer and creator of seeds, following the inner self, strength itself. He is history, resolve, Gautama, and the maker of night. He is hypocrisy, yet free from it, the semblance of hypocrisy, subject to control and the controller, the age of strife, creator of worlds, lord of beings, the great creator, and beyond remedy. He is the imperishable, the supreme Brahman, powerful, the very wheel; he is justice and injustice, pure in soul, worthy of honor, the one who comes and goes. He is greatly gracious, the giver of auspicious dreams, the mirror, conqueror of enemies, maker of the Vedas and mantras, wise, and the crusher of foes in battle. He abides in great clouds, exceedingly fierce and enchanting, his flame is fire, his blaze immense, enveloped in thick smoke, the oblation and the offering. Virile and beneficent, ever radiant, his banner is smoke. Dark-hued, attached to his devotees, beautiful, and without impediment. He grants well-being and is well-being itself, possessor and giver of shares, light, both the support and the great body, devoted to the great womb. He is dark and golden, the sense of all embodied beings, with great feet, hands, body, and fame. His head, measure, and eyes are vast, the abode of night and the great ender, with great ears, lips, and jaws. His nose, neck, and throat are mighty, partaking of the cremation ground; his chest and breast are immense, the inner self, and abode of wild creatures. He is pendant, with hanging lips, the great illusion, the ocean of milk, with great teeth, fangs, tongue, and mouth. His nails, hair, and matted locks are all great. Gracious, a giver of favor, trustworthy, and the support of the mountain. He is both affectionate and unaffectionate, unconquered, the great sage, of the form of a tree, with a banner of a tree; fire and the bearer of wind. He is Gaṇḍalī, the support of Meru, lord of the gods, whose head is the Atharva Veda, mouth the Sāma Veda, and eyes countless Ṛg Vedas. With the Yajur Veda as his arms and feet, he is hidden yet manifest, ever-moving, with unfailing purpose, gracious, approachable, and of beautiful vision. Helpful and beloved by all, golden with radiant hue, the navel, giver of joy, existence itself, and the steadfast lord dwelling in the lotus. He is first among those who wield twelve weapons, the embodiment of sacrifice, ever absorbed in it. He is night, the age of strife, time, the makara, and worshipped by time. Accompanied by attendants, creator of hosts, charioteer of spirits, he dwells in ashes, protects ashes, is himself turned to ashes, is the tree and the multitude. He is protector of the worlds, yet beyond them, of great soul, worshipped by all, pure, thrice-pure, accomplished, immaculate, and served by beings. He abides in hermitages, established in sacred rites, supreme in the mind of the cosmic artisan, of vast branches, copper-red lips, lotus-eyed, and unwavering. He is Kapila, tawny-hued, pure, the very life and the highest. He is Gandharva, Aditi, Tārkṣya, easily known, and eloquent. The god wields the battle-axe, imitates, is a true friend, plays the Tumbavīṇā, is of great wrath, with upward-flowing seed, and is lord of the waters. Thus is he—limitless, mysterious, and ever-blessed—whose forms, attributes, and glories are sung by the wise.