O Rama, the all-pervading power of Brahman is manifest everywhere—its force of destruction is seen in all things that perish, and its power of sorrow is felt in those who grieve. Likewise, the power of bliss shines in the joyful, strength in the mighty warrior, creation in all beings brought forth, and at the close of an age, the power that absorbs everything back into itself. Just as a tree, with its fruits, flowers, creepers, leaves, branches, and joints, resides within the seed, so does this entire world dwell within Brahman. By the mere force of appearance, between consciousness and inertness, the mind—known as the individual soul—seems to be seen within Brahman. The powers of the individual soul, like the many creepers, clusters, and shoots in a tree, also reside in Brahman. As the earth produces flowers of many kinds according to place and season, so too do minds create worlds. At certain times and places, particular powers arise, owing to the diversity of time and location, much like rice plants sprouting from the earth’s surface. All this, O Raghava, is Brahman alone—pure, undifferentiated consciousness, free from imagined concepts. This is I, you, the world, and all directions. The Self pervades all, ever manifesting as the great form; whatever power of thought it assumes, that is called the mind. Just as the movement of a feather appears in the sky, or a whirlpool forms in water, so too are the mind and the individual soul merely glimmers of appearance within the Self. The form of the mind, arising as the faculty of thought, is the divine power—it is verily Brahman. The notion ‘this is I’—such division arises from mere appearance; the belief that mind and Brahman are different is the supreme cause of delusion. Whatever is of the nature of thought, whether existent or nonexistent, and whatever is named—all powers are that one power; know that power to be Brahman. The existence of the mind, which abides in the mind, is produced by appearance, and by that very appearance it ceases, not by any other. All distinctions—opposition, limitation, number, form—imagined by the word ‘mind,’ are Brahman, O knower of Brahman. As the appearance of the mind unfolds, so exactly does it become; the example here is indeed that of the moon. Just as, in the vast, undisturbed, pure water, a ripple arises by itself, so is the individual soul the cause of worldly existence in the Supreme Self. For the knower, all consciousness is always Brahman alone, just as waves, surges, and ripples are nothing but water in the ocean itself. There is no second existence; only being itself, which appears as name, form, and activity—just as the diversity of waves in the ocean is imagined as different from water. Whatever is born, perishes, moves, or remains still—this is all Brahman within Brahman, only a transformation of Brahman itself. Just as intense heat appears in a mirage within itself, so too, the Self, though undivided, manifests itself in various ways within itself. Cause, action, agent, birth, death, and existence—all are only Brahman; there is nothing else apart from it, and whatever appears apart is only for the sake of conceptualization. There is no greed, no delusion, no craving; all are pure. How could there be greed, craving, or delusion within the Self, or from where could they arise? This entire world is only the Self; the process of conceptualization is only the Self. Just as a golden bracelet is nothing but gold, so too, the Self appears as mind. O Rama, that which is Brahman, when unaware, is called mind or individual soul; when not recognized as such, it quickly assumes bondage, and when recognized, it is freed from bondage. By the Self, which is pure consciousness but ignorant of itself, through its own imagination, individuality is manifested, just as emptiness is revealed by space. Here, the Self shines forth in the world as the individual, appearing as if it were not the Self—just as, to one with impaired vision, two moons seem to arise, both real and unreal. Because, due to delusion, the perception of word and meaning in these two is utterly impossible, and since the Self is all-pervading, where could the Self be bound, and where could it be liberated? The notion that there is bondage, when bondage is eternally impossible, is a false imagination; for one whose bondage is imagined, liberation too is illusory, not real. Whatever determination the mind arrives at, that alone comes to be, and not otherwise; therefore, O Lord, since bondage is only imagined, how could it truly exist? This conception of bondage is a false imagination of the ignorant; and for them, the notion of liberation that arises is equally false. Thus, in the reckoning of ignorance, the views of bondage and liberation are remembered; but in reality, O wise one, there is neither bondage nor liberation. The unreality of imagination is evident to one whose mind is awakened—just as with a rope and a snake—but not to one whose mind is unawakened. For the wise, there is no confusion regarding bondage, liberation, and the like; such confusion about bondage and liberation exists only for the ignorant, O Raghava. First comes the mind, then the vision of release from attachment, and afterwards the creation of the world and the naming of realms; such is the initial sequence, which, having reached its foundation, becomes a tale suited for children. O best of sages, why is the sequence of the children's tale being told? Please narrate it to me in order, along with the reason for describing the mind. A child, with a mind both simple and naive, asks his nurse, “Tell me a story you have heard somewhere.” For the child’s amusement, the nurse—wise and gentle—tells him a story, using words that are clear and sweet. Once, there were three noble princes, great-souled and virtuous, in a vast and empty city, shining like stars in the sky. Of these, two were never born, and the third did not even remain in the womb; yet they appeared pure in conduct and form, shining like moons.