With this very body, I once delighted in the groves of Nandana, enjoying pleasures and frolicking freely; now, that body has become nothing but a dry skeleton. Once, absorbed in the highest joys, I mingled with celestial women, my mind lost in pleasure—now, deprived of those thoughts, my body withers away. Bound by countless desires and experiences, I wonder: how does this body now find peace? Alas, body! Where have you fallen, now reduced to the dryness of asceticism? You have become a skeleton, and your pitiable state causes me to reflect deeply. Once, with this body, I delighted in pleasures; now, seeing it as a skeleton, I am filled with fear and distaste. Where once a necklace like a cluster of stars adorned my chest, now ants burrow in the emptiness. My body, whose golden radiance once attracted beautiful women, is now mocked, reduced to bones. Look—my mouth agape, skin dried by the heat of asceticism, I frighten the animals of the forest with the ghastly face of my skeleton. Through extreme dryness, the hollow of my belly shines as if illuminated by rays of sunlight, like discernment itself. My dried-up body lies supine in the forest, inspiring detachment in those who see its emptiness, as if suspended in the sky. Freed from craving for sound, form, taste, touch, and smell, my body rests on the mountain, unwavering in samadhi. When the goblin of the mind is pacified, the body attains a bliss greater than any worldly power. See, I am completely at rest, all curiosity gone; the body lies happily, freed from the net of imagination. The body-tree, agitated by the restless monkey-mind, moves with such force it even severs its own roots. Freed from the misfortune of mind, my body does not experience the confusion of elephants, clouds, or lions; it abides in supreme bliss. Apart from the state of no-mind, which is like the autumn sun dispelling the mist of feverish desires and delusion, I see no other good for living beings. Those tranquil-minded ones who have attained absence of mind have reached the utmost limit of happiness and enjoyment. By fortune, I see this body in the forest, freed from all suffering, completely peaceful, without fever, in the state of no-mind. O Lord, knower of all dharma, in those days, many bodies were indeed enjoyed again and again by Bhargava. O sage, in that body produced by Bhrigu, what great wonder or lamentation occurred for him? O Rama, the subtle essence of Shukra, having attained the state of life, took on the form of action and arose as the Bhargava nature from Bhrigu. That essence, first united with the supreme state, attained the condition of elemental space and, stirred by the wind, entered the heart of Bhrigu through the flow of prana and apana. Gradually, it gained potency and became the body of Ushanas (Shukra). Endowed with the sacred rites of a Brahmin, she became the foremost among her father's offspring, and in due course, reached the state of a dried skeleton. When that body of Brahman first departed, Shukra lamented for her. Even though he was free from passion and desire, and possessed a composed, brahmin-like form, Shukra grieved for his own body—for this is the nature of embodied beings. Yet by this display of grief, he taught the wise the distinction between body and embodied one, for the sake of establishing detachment. This is the course of the body, whether wise or ignorant, for as long as life lasts; just as in the world, conduct always follows ability or inability. Both those who have understood the nature of things and those who are ignorant and act like animals remain in worldly dealings, like lotuses caught in a net. Just as the ignorant act, so too do the wise; only a difference in tendencies causes bondage or liberation. As long as the body lasts, pain is felt in pain and pleasure in pleasure; the wise, with unattached minds, appear as if unawakened. In pleasures, they seem happy; in painful situations, they seem afflicted—yet truly, great souls are inwardly cool and unaffected. Just as reflections in a pillar are disturbed but the pillar itself remains steady, so for the knower, only the organs of action are agitated, not the steady mind. Knowing this, he remains amidst worldly activities, moving or unmoving, like the sun reflected clearly below in water. Even one who has abandoned worldly actions is bound if his mind is unawakened; even one who has not abandoned the play of delusion is free if his mind is awakened. He whose mind and senses are free is liberated, even if his actions are bound; he whose mind and senses are bound is bound, even if his actions are free. In this world, the senses and mind are the cause of perceiving pleasure and pain, as well as bondage and liberation—just as light is the cause of illumination. Outwardly, conform to the customs of the world, but inwardly remain free from all conduct; stand unattached, with all desires completely pacified. While abiding in your own self, with all desires abandoned, perform the actions that must be done; certainly, this is the state of equanimity. Do not fall into the deep pit of intense possessiveness on the path of worldly existence, which is a great whirlpool of affliction and disease, O seeker of the highest good.