In the beginning, the Self, seeking to multiply, took on countless forms. First, he became a stallion, and she, his counterpart, became a mare. United, they brought forth the single-hoofed animals into existence. Then, transforming again, he became a donkey and she a she-donkey; their union gave rise to all such creatures. He continued this wondrous play: as a he-goat and she-goat, as a ram and ewe, they united, and from them goats and sheep were born. In this way, through the endless dance of pairs, from the greatest to the smallest—down even to ants—he created all living beings. Having brought forth all this, he realized, “I am indeed the creation, for I have created all these beings.” Thus, creation arose from his own understanding. And whoever truly knows this—recognizes himself as creator within creation—becomes, in this world, a true creator. Desiring further, he rubbed himself, and from his mouth and hands, fire was produced. For this reason, the interiors of the mouth and the yoni are smooth and hairless. When people say, “Let us worship this god or that god,” they are only venerating a part of the One, for all the gods are but manifestations of him. He then created all that is moist as semen, which is called Soma. Thus, all food and the eater of food are encompassed within him: Soma is the food, and Agni is its eater. This act of creation—where he, as the supreme Self, gave rise to the gods and then, as mortal, to mortals—is the highest creation of Brahman. Knowing this brings joy within creation. At first, everything was undifferentiated; only by name and form was it distinguished. Even now, all things are recognized only by their names and forms. The Self entered everything, down to the very tips of the nails. Just as a razor is hidden in its case or the earth in its nest, so he is not seen, for he is not fully manifest. When he breathes, he is called breath; when he speaks, speech; when he sees, eye; when he hears, ear; when he thinks, mind. These are his names according to his functions. But to worship any single aspect alone is to know only a part, not the whole; one becomes limited by that aspect alone. One should meditate upon the Self alone, for in the Self all these aspects become one. The Self is the foundation, the means by which all is known. Just as one follows footprints to find a path, so the one who knows the Self attains fame and wisdom. This Self is dearer than a son, wealth, or anything else; it is the innermost, the dearest. If someone claims another thing is dear, let them know: that thing will perish. But for one who meditates upon the Self alone as dear, the truly dear never perishes. People say, “By knowing Brahman, all becomes known.” But what is that Brahman, from which all has arisen? In the beginning, Brahman alone existed, one without a second. It knew itself: “I am Brahman.” From this realization, all was born. Whoever among gods or sages awakened to this truth became that. So too among humans: whoever knows “I am Brahman” becomes all. The sage Vāmadeva, seeing this, declared, “I became Manu, I became the Sun.” Whoever realizes “I am Brahman” becomes all; neither gods nor ancestors rule over him, for he becomes the Self. But one who worships another, thinking “He is one, I am another,” does not truly know; such a person is like cattle for the gods, serving them as many cattle serve a person. What is unpleasant for the gods is what humans know. In the beginning, Brahman alone existed. Desiring to be many, it differentiated itself and created the highest form: Kṣatra, sovereignty—Indra, Varuṇa, Soma, Rudra, Parjanya, Yama, Mṛtyu, Īśāna. Thus, nothing is higher than Kṣatra. For this reason, the Brāhmaṇa honors the Kṣatriya in the Rājasūya sacrifice, and Kṣatra bestows fame. Yet, the womb of Kṣatra is Brahman, so even a king, at the height of his power, returns to Brahman as his source. Whoever harms Kṣatra ultimately harms himself and becomes more sinful, like one who leaves the best. Brahman continued to differentiate, creating the divine groups: Vasus, Rudras, Ādityas, Viśve Devas, and Maruts. Then he created the Śūdra class, Pūṣan, who nourishes all that exists here. He then created Dharma, the highest form, which is the sovereignty of sovereignty. Nothing is higher than Dharma; thus, the weaker yield to the stronger through Dharma, as to a king. Dharma is truth, and truth is Dharma; they are one and the same. Thus, Brahman became everything: Brahman, Kṣatra, Vaiśya, Śūdra. Among the gods, Brahman became Agni; among humans, the Brāhmaṇa; by Kṣatriya, the Kṣatriya; by Vaiśya, the Vaiśya; by Śūdra, the Śūdra. Through these two forms—divine and human—Brahman manifested. But whoever leaves this world without knowing his own true world is not enjoyed by the known, just as the Veda not recited or acts not performed come to nothing. Even great deeds are exhausted in the end. One should meditate upon the Self alone as one’s world; for him, deeds are never exhausted, and from his own Self, whatever he desires, that he creates. This Self is indeed the world of all beings. Through sacrifice, one attains the world of the gods; through recitation, the world of the sages; by desiring offspring and making offerings, the world of the ancestors; by serving humans, the world of humans; by providing for animals, the world of animals; and by sustaining creatures in his house, the world of those beings. Just as one who desires well-being for all worlds, so all beings desire well-being for one who knows thus. In the beginning, the Self alone existed, one without a second. He desired: “May I have a wife, so that I may beget offspring, possess wealth, and perform actions.” This is the extent of desire; there is nothing more to wish for. Even now, when alone, a person desires these same things, and until each is attained, he feels incomplete. Fulfillment comes through their realization. For such a person, his mind is his Self; speech is his wife; breath is his offspring; sight is his human wealth, for by sight he gains what is beneficial; hearing is his divine wealth, for by hearing he learns what is beneficial. The Self is his action, for by the Self he acts. All things—sacrifice, animals, person, and existence—are fivefold. Whoever knows this attains all. By intelligence and austerity, he generated seven kinds of food: one common to all, two for the gods, three for himself, and one for the animals. In these, everything—living and non-living—is established. Though these foods are always consumed, they do not diminish. Whoever knows this inexhaustibility, eating food as its symbol, reaches the gods and lives in strength. The common food is that which is eaten by all. Whoever worships this food is not overcome by evil, for it is mixed and universal. Two foods he assigned to the gods: the offered and the re-offered. Thus, offerings are made to the gods in both main and secondary sacrifices, as in the new and full moon rites. Therefore, one should be a sacrificer with oblations. One food he gave to the animals: milk. At first, both humans and animals live on milk. Thus, when a child is born, clarified butter is first licked or applied to the breast. When a calf is born, it is said, “It is not yet eating grass.” In milk, all is established, both the animate and inanimate. When it is said, “By offering milk throughout the year, one conquers death again,” it should not be understood literally. Rather, on whatever day one offers, that day one conquers death. In this way, one gives food to all the gods. And though these foods are always eaten, they do not diminish. The person is inexhaustibility, for he generates food again and again through intelligence and action. If he did not do so, food would diminish. The mouth is the symbol of eating, and by it, one partakes of food, reaching the gods and living in strength. For himself, he reserved three foods: mind, speech, and breath. When the mind is elsewhere, one does not see or hear, for by mind alone one perceives and understands. All desires, resolutions, doubts, faith, lack of faith, steadiness, unsteadiness, shame, intelligence, and fear—these all reside in the mind. Even when touched from behind, one knows by the mind. All sound depends on speech, and speech on sound. Breath is the sum of inhalation, exhalation, diffused breath, upward breath, and equalizing breath; all is made of breath. Thus, the Self is made of speech, mind, and breath. There are three worlds: this world is speech, the intermediate world is mind, and the heavenly world is breath. There are three Vedas: speech is the Rig Veda, mind is the Yajur Veda, and breath is the Sama Veda. There are gods, ancestors, and humans: speech is the gods, mind is the ancestors, breath is the humans. There are father, mother, and offspring: mind is the father, speech the mother, breath the offspring. All that is known, to be known, or unknown is contained in speech. Whatever is known is the form of speech; speech is the knower, and by speech, one protects what is known. Whatever is to be known is the form of mind; mind is what is to be known, and by mind, one protects it. Thus, by knowing the Self as the root and essence of all, one truly knows, and all is fulfilled in him.