In the beginning, he envisioned a radiant light, dazzling and immense, shining like a circle of blazing fire that turned all the directions golden. Within this luminous expanse, clusters of fierce fire-sparks glittered, arranged like constellations in the sky. Its edges glowed the pale green of new grass, and it was adorned with golden forests, shimmering in the brilliance. The heart of this vision was a tangled mass of golden flames, a blaze adorned with wild, spreading golden earrings that shone with their own light. Within this resplendence, the mind, taking on a form of its own, imagined the sun itself—fashioned in the likeness of the self. From that primordial light, the sun arose, dwelling at the center of a circle of flames, adorned with blazing golden earrings. He bore a mass of fiery locks, exhaling and expanding fire, his limbs playing with flames until the entire sphere of the sky was filled with his radiance. Then, Brahma, endowed with great intellect, by a sudden flash of insight, shaped those other particles of light into beautiful aerial vehicles. In an instant, whatever he conceived appeared before him exactly as he had imagined, just as a wise person can discern the arising of different sounds. This, O mighty-armed one, is the process by which the self-born Brahma creates anew; each day, for each world, gods and demons are conjured forth by his thought alone. He imagined time and its divisions, the stars and planets, rivers, oceans, islands, the directions, mountains, and the very earth itself. In the same way that the ocean produces waves, Brahma imagined gods, demons, humans, serpents, gandharvas, yakshas, and rakshasas. He also devised their realms and mountains, splendid aerial vehicles for their movement, and assigned to each their varied actions; thus did the lotus-born one arrange all these things. These beings, having attained perfection through thought and endowed with all powers, instantly beheld before them whatever they conceived. Then, they too imagined many other groups of beings; and those beings in turn imagined yet more, of countless kinds and forms. Recalling the Vedas and the qualities of the sacrificial rites, Brahma established the boundaries of the world, as one would set boundaries for a housewife’s work. Assuming a divine form, the mind-born vast body, he produced this creation teeming with the succession of beings. He made worlds adorned with oceans, mountains, and forests, with realms stretching between worlds, regions marked by the peaks of Meru—the earth’s seat—directions, woodlands, and tangled thickets. This creation is struck by pleasure and pain, old age, birth, death, and disease; it is pierced by passion, aversion, and fear, and its essence is woven of the three qualities. Whatever those minds, arisen from Brahma, imagined in the past—so it was seen in its completeness, and even now it is perceived through the power of illusion. Thus, in all creations, the Unborn One, sometimes or perhaps always, imagines the cycle of existence and perceives it as real and stable. This delusion, though false, has attained the appearance of reality in waking life; it is continually shaped by the mind’s imagination. All actions in the world unfold according to imagination; and by this very power, the goddess of destiny stands firmly established. When this creation, planted by the Lord of beings, had arisen, Brahma, born from the lotus and seated upon it, reflected thus. By the mere vibration of his mind, a wondrous array came forth—creation, full of enjoyment, ever-changing through the play of manifold activities. It is crowded with Indras, Upendras, and mighty kings; filled with mountains and oceans; and riddled with the narrow passages of netherworlds, heavens, and all the quarters. All this vast web of imagination has been spread by me, he thought; now I shall cease from this process of manifesting the play of thought. Thus resolved, he withdrew from the distress of fanciful constructions and remembered his own Self—the beginningless, supreme Brahman—by his own Self alone. Attaining that state, with the mind dissolved in that radiance, he abided in happiness, his heart at peace, like a weary traveler resting on a soft bed. Free from possessiveness and ego, having reached supreme peace, he abided in the Self within himself, like the ocean undisturbed. Sometimes, by meditation, the blessed Lord himself ceases, by the power of consciousness, just as the ocean becomes still when the waves subside. He reflects upon the world, filled with pleasure and pain, bound by countless cords of desire, afflicted by attachment, aversion, and fear. Then, his mind overcome by compassion for all beings, he undertakes great works in this world, including the composition of various scriptures. These works are filled with the essence of spiritual knowledge—Vedas, Vedānta, Purāṇas, and others—all intended for the liberation of embodied beings. Again, resting in that supreme state, free from adversity, he abides in his own nature, with a tranquil mind, like an ocean undisturbed even by the churning of Mandara. Observing the activities of the world and maintaining order, Brahma, seated on the lotus, once more abides in his own Self. Only by the force of past births and impressions does his body remain, established solely for non-return to birth, like a wheel set in motion. He has no inclination either to abandon the body or to preserve it; there is neither self nor other here, neither existence nor non-existence. Undertaking all actions equally and remaining unchanged in every state, he stands liberated, like a full and perfect ocean. Sometimes, solely by chance and without any intention, one awakens for the sake of bestowing grace upon the worlds. This pure state of Brahman, O wise one, which I have described to you—know it to be the sattvic state of birth, O leader of the gods.