Listen, O seeker, to the wisdom that reveals the true vision. The body, born from the weight of misunderstanding, brings misfortune to those who mistake it for the self. But the one who truly sees is he who does not regard the body as his own essence. When delusion falls away, and a person perceives pleasure and pain of the body—arising merely from circumstances of place and time—as not belonging to himself, then he truly sees. True vision belongs to him who beholds the self and all else with undivided sight, perceiving everything as nothing but the light of consciousness. He who sees, in the boundless sky, in every direction, in the flow of time and in every action, that “I alone am”—such a one truly sees. He who perceives the subtle ‘I’ pervading everywhere, imagined in countless forms, even in something as minute as the tip of a hair—he truly sees. He who, turning within, perceives the infinite self—limitless, all-powerful, present in every state—as the nondual consciousness, he truly sees. But he who, afflicted by ailments, fears, distress, bound by old age, death, and birth, thinks “I am the body”—he does not see rightly. The one who perceives my greatness as pervading all—across, above, and below—and knows there is no second to me, truly sees. He who recognizes that all things are strung in me, as gems upon a thread, and that I alone am the inner consciousness, truly sees. He who perceives that neither I nor anything else exists here, that only Brahman is and nothing else, and who thus sees the middle between being and non-being, truly sees. Whatever may be named or found in the three worlds is but a single aspect of myself, like a wave in the ocean; whoever perceives this within, truly perceives. For the great soul whose sense of self and other, of yours and mine, has dissolved with the end of mental constructs, such a person sees with clear vision. This world is to be pitied, protected, and regarded as my own, as one would a beloved younger sister; whoever, with a resounding voice, sees the three worlds as frail, truly perceives. Whoever perceives the body as lacking true objectivity, composed of the awe of pure consciousness, and filled with the web of the universe, truly perceives. Pleasure and pain, existence and nonexistence, and all the discriminations of the mind—whoever sees these as “I am not this” or “I am this” is never diminished. In a world pervaded by one’s own being, devoid of any other, whoever sees, “What is there to reject, what is there to accept?”—such a person is wise. To whom all this is nothing but pure being, beyond reasoning and appearance, and for whom the calculation of acceptance and rejection has ended—to that one I bow. He who, like space, is of one essence, present in all states, yet never colored by any state—such a great soul is the supreme lord. Freed from the notions of darkness and light, having attained the very essence of time, serene, balanced, and healthy—I honor that state. In whose rising and setting, in whose diverse and beautiful manifestations within the world, activity remains equally poised, single-pointed, and boundless—to that supreme knower, to Shiva, I offer my salutations. Now, O wise one, consider this: the great city of the body, for the purpose of enjoyment and liberation, is like a garden to the knower. It exists for happiness, not for sorrow. You may ask, “How is the body a city, and how does the yogi, dwelling within, enjoy the happiness of sovereignty alone?” Listen, O Rama: this delightful city of the body is endowed with all virtues; for the knower, it is rich in infinite play and illuminated by the light of one’s own awareness. Its windows are the shining eyes, its inner realms radiant. The streets are formed by the hands extending outward, and the feet reach to the city’s outskirts. It is adorned with rows of hair like vines and clusters, the skin serving as its walls, and it rests upon the pillars of ankles, calves, thighs, and knees. Beautifully constructed are the soles, marked by lines and stones; its boundaries are the skin, vital points, veins, and joints. The gateway lies at the tips of the thighs, with the genitals emerging, covered by folds of skin and hair, veiled by the petals of flesh. The face is adorned by the radiance of brows, forehead, and mouth, with broad cheeks like spacious grounds, scattered with the lotuses of her glances. The chest is a lake where the buds of the breasts are like lotus-buds, the shoulders rise like playful rocks, concealed by dense lines of hair. The stomach is a chasm where desired food is thrown and crushed, resounding with the tumult of winds expelled through the deep channel of the throat. She is adorned with whatever is acquired in the marketplace of the heart, and her city of life-breaths flows constantly through nine gates. Her mouth, wide open, reveals fragments of teeth and bone; the tongue, wandering within, chews and tastes the food consumed. The wells of her ears are covered by thickets of hair, and the expanse of her back is a wilderness, marked by the chains of hips curving at the edges. The anus is obstructed by filth, and within it is endless mire; in the garden of her mind, the courtesan of self-reflection wanders. This city of the body is delightful, with its restless senses like monkeys bound by the fisherman of intelligence, and with the charming blossoming of smiles in the garden of the mouth. For the wise, their own bodily city is supremely beautiful and fortunate, existing only for happiness, never for sorrow, and is of the highest benefit. Yet for the ignorant, it is the keeper of countless sorrows; but for the wise, it is the keeper of countless joys. O subduer of foes, when this body is lost, nothing is truly lost for the wise; when it remains, everything remains—thus, it brings happiness to the wise. When the wise one mounts this chariot and moves freely in the world for the sake of experiencing and transcending all enjoyments, it is rightly called the chariot of the wise. For through this alone—sound, form, taste, touch, fragrance, kin, and wealth are obtained; therefore, it is the giver of gain to the wise. Such is the vision of the sage, who sees the self in all and all in the self, whose understanding transforms the body from a source of bondage into a garden of liberation and joy.