Listen, O seeker, to the vision revealed in these sacred verses. All that bears a name or form in the three worlds is but a single aspect of my own being, just as every wave is none other than the ocean itself. The one who truly perceives this unity within, perceives rightly. For the great soul in whom the distinctions of self and other, of ‘yours’ and ‘mine,’ have dissolved through the ending of mental constructs, such a one sees the world with clear, unobstructed vision. This world, fragile and fleeting, deserves our compassion, our protection, and our loving regard—it is my own, as dear as a younger sister. The one who openly sees the frailty of the three worlds truly perceives. Whoever understands the body as lacking any objective reality, yet woven from the pure terror and wonder of consciousness and filled with the intricate web of the universe, truly perceives. Pleasure and pain, existence and nonexistence, all the discriminations of the mind—whoever sees these and knows, “I am not this” or “I am this,” remains ever undiminished. In a world pervaded only by one’s own being, where no ‘other’ can be found, the wise one asks, “What is there to reject, what is there to accept?” For such a person, wisdom has dawned. To the one for whom all is pure being, beyond the reach of reasoning and appearance, and for whom the notions of acceptance and rejection have ended—I bow in reverence. He who, like space, remains of one essence, present in all states yet untouched by any—such a great soul is the supreme lord. Freed from the play of darkness and light, having realized the essence of time, serene, balanced, and whole—I honor that state of attainment. In whose rising and setting, in whose diverse and beautiful manifestations, the activity of the world remains poised, single-pointed, and boundless—to that supreme knower, to Shiva, I offer my salutations. Now, O Rama, consider the city of the body. For one who knows, this great city exists for the twin purposes of enjoyment and liberation. It is like a garden, meant only for happiness, not for sorrow. You may wonder, O great sage, how the body can be called a city, and how the yogi, dwelling within it, enjoys the happiness of sovereignty alone. Know then, O Rama, that this delightful city of the body is endowed with every virtue. For the knower, it is rich with infinite play and illumined by the light of one’s own awareness. The windows of the eyes shine forth, the inner realms are radiant, the hands stretch out as streets, and the feet reach the outskirts of this city. Rows of hair adorn it like vines and clusters, the skin forms its walls, and it rests upon the sturdy pillars of ankles, calves, thighs, and knees. The soles of the feet, marked by lines and stones, are beautifully constructed; the boundaries of skin, vital points, veins, and joints charm the beholder. At the gateway of her thighs, her genitals emerge, veiled by folds of skin and petals of flesh. Her face is adorned by the radiance of brows, forehead, and mouth, her broad cheeks like spacious grounds, scattered with the lotuses of her glances. Her chest is a lake where the buds of her breasts are like lotus-buds, her shoulders rise like playful rocks, concealed by dense lines of hair. Her stomach is a chasm where all desired food is thrown and crushed, resounding with the tumult of winds expelled through the deep channel of her throat. Whatever she acquires in the marketplace of the heart becomes her adornment, and the city of her life-breaths flows constantly through nine gates. Her mouth, wide open, reveals fragments of teeth and bone, and her tongue, wandering within, chews and tastes the food she consumes. The wells of her ears are covered by the thicket of hair, and the expanse of her back is a wilderness, marked by the chains of her hips curving at the edges. Her anus is obstructed by filth, and within it is endless mire; and in the garden of her mind, the courtesan of self-reflection wanders. This city of the body is delightful, with restless senses like monkeys, firmly bound by the fisherman of intelligence, and with the 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. For the ignorant, however, 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 lost for the wise; when it remains, everything remains—thus, it brings happiness to the wise. When the wise one mounts this body and moves freely in the world, experiencing and transcending all enjoyments, this is called the chariot of the wise. Because sound, form, taste, touch, fragrance, kin, and wealth are all obtained through this alone, the body is the giver of gain to the wise. When this body bears the web of actions—pleasure and pain—it is capable of bearing all things everywhere. In this city of the body, the wise one, free from delusion, rules his kingdom without agitation, like Indra in his own city. He does not cast the intoxicated horse of the mind into the pit of darkness, nor does he give his daughter, discernment, to the forms of greed and duality. He sees no weakness in the territory of ignorance; rather, he cuts off the very roots of the fearsome enemy of worldly existence within. He does not sink into the whirlpool of craving, the fortress of agitation by desire, or the forest of alternating pleasure and pain. He bathes constantly, both outwardly and inwardly, in an instant, at the sacred confluences of rivers, following the course of his mind’s intentions step by step. Unseen by all the senses, turning away from the spectacle of the city, he always dwells happily within the inner chamber named meditation. This city brings happiness to one whose heart is ever joyful; it is divine, bestowing both enjoyment and liberation, like Indra’s own Amaravati. In that city where all things established remain so, and nothing perishes unless it is unsteady—how could such a city not bring happiness to its king? And when the city of the body is destroyed for the wise, nothing at all is lost—just as, when the pot is broken, the space within is not diminished.