With deep reverence, the seeker offers a hymn to the ancient Brahman, sending it forth like a chariot along its destined path. This sacred song calls out to all the immortal children, those radiant beings who dwell in the celestial realms, inviting them to listen. In the place where fire is kindled by friction, where the wind begins to stir, and where the soma flows in abundance, there, the mind itself is born. By the creative impulse of the Sun, one cherishes the ancient Brahman, establishing the sacred womb for offerings, knowing that such devotion is never lost. The body must be held upright and steady in three places, with the heart, senses, and mind brought together in harmony. The wise, seeking to cross the fearful streams of existence, use the mind as a boat, guided by Brahman, to reach the other shore. With controlled effort, the breath is pressed down and reduced, and the wise practitioner refrains from breathing through the nostrils. Like a charioteer taming unruly horses, the mind is held steady and unshaken. The practice should be undertaken in a clean, level place, free from stones, fire, and sand, undisturbed by noise, water, or other distractions. It should be pleasing to the mind, gentle on the eyes, not in a cave nor where the wind dwells. As yoga deepens, the first forms that appear are mist, smoke, the sun, fire, wind, fireflies, lightning, crystal, and the moon—all revealing glimpses of Brahman. When the qualities of yoga, composed of earth, water, fire, air, and space, are awakened, the practitioner attains a body made of the fire of yoga, free from disease, old age, and death. Signs of progress manifest: lightness, health, freedom from craving, clarity of complexion, pleasant voice, sweet fragrance, and little urine or feces. These are the first indications of advancement in yoga. Just as a mirror shines when its clay covering is cleaned, so too does the embodied one, seeing the true nature of the self, become fulfilled and free from sorrow. By knowing the self, one perceives the essence of Brahman—unborn, eternal, pure among all realities, shining like a lamp. Knowing this god, all bonds are broken. This god pervades all directions, born before all, present within the womb, born and yet to be born, facing all beings with countless faces. He is the god in fire, in water, who has entered the whole world, dwelling in plants and trees; to that god, repeated homage is offered. He alone, veiled by his own power, rules all worlds with his energies, being both the origin and the unfolding. Those who know this become immortal. Rudra alone stands; there is no second. He rules all these worlds, facing all beings, withdrawing at the end, having created and protected all. With eyes, faces, arms, and feet everywhere, the one god creates heaven and earth together, blowing forth with his arms and wings. He is the origin and source of the gods, the ruler of the universe, Rudra the great sage, who created Hiranyagarbha in the beginning; may he unite all with auspicious wisdom. O Rudra, may your gracious form, which is not terrifying nor reveals evil, shine upon us with peace. The arrow you hold for protection, O mountain-lord, make it auspicious; let it not harm people or the world. The supreme Brahman, the highest and vast, is hidden in all beings according to their forms, encompassing the universe. Knowing that Lord, people become immortal. I know this great Person, radiant like the sun, beyond darkness; knowing him alone, one crosses over death—there is no other path for liberation. There is nothing beyond him, nothing smaller or greater; like a tree, he stands firm in the sky, alone, filling the entire universe. That which is higher, formless, free from affliction—those who know this become immortal; others only experience suffering. He has all faces, heads, and necks, dwelling in the hearts of all beings, pervading everything; thus, the blessed Shiva is present everywhere. The Person is great and powerful, the originator of existence; the ruler, pure and luminous, grants attainment—the imperishable light. The Person, the inner self, is the size of a thumb, always established in the hearts of people; by heart, intellect, and mind he is perceived. Those who know this become immortal. The Person has a thousand heads, eyes, and feet; enveloping the earth on all sides, he extends beyond it by ten fingers’ breadth. The Person alone is all this—what has been and what will be; he is the lord of immortality and grows beyond through food. He has hands and feet everywhere, eyes, heads, and mouths everywhere; he hears everywhere in the world, covering everything, standing firm. He appears as the qualities of all the senses, yet is devoid of all senses; he is the lord, ruler, refuge, and friend of all. In the city with nine gates, the embodied soul—the swan—moves outside playfully, master of all the world, of the immovable and the moving. Without hands and feet, he is swift and grasps; he sees without eyes, hears without ears. He knows what is to be known, but no one knows him; he is called the foremost, the great Person. The self is subtler than the subtle, greater than the great, hidden in the heart of every creature. The one who is free from desire and sorrow, through purity of mind, sees the majesty of the Lord. I know this ageless, ancient, all-pervading self, present everywhere; the knowers of Brahman declare that he is the cessation of birth and always proclaim him as eternal. He who is one and colorless, through the union of powers, assumes many colors, establishes diverse meanings, moves within and at the end of the universe; may that divine one unite all with auspicious understanding. That alone is Agni, that is the Sun, that is Vayu, that is the Moon; that alone is the bright, that is Brahma, that is the waters, that is Prajapati. You are woman, you are man; you are boy and also girl; you are the old one who walks with a staff; you are born and become the one with faces everywhere. Dark, winged, green, red-eyed, womb of lightning, seasons, oceans—without beginning, you exist in your vastness, from whom all worlds are born. The one unborn, red, white, and black, creates many beings of similar forms; one unborn enjoys her and lies beside her, another unborn abandons her after enjoying. Two birds, united and friends, embrace the same tree; one eats the sweet fruit, the other, not eating, looks on.