This royal knowledge, this deep mystery,
This purifier, supreme and ever bright,
Perceived directly, in virtue's glorious light,
Easy to practice, with a joyful soul,
Imperishable, making spirits whole.

Those who lack faith in this, my sacred law,
O harasser of foes, will ever draw
Back to the path of mortal birth and death,
Without attaining Me, with every breath.

By Me, in form unmanifest and grand,
This entire universe is ever spanned,
All beings have their roots in Me alone,
But I in them, am not so clearly shown.

And yet, the beings do not dwell in Me,
Behold My yoga, sovereign and so free,
My Self, the source of all, sustaining all,
Does not in them, let its own essence fall.

As the great wind, that moves in every place,
Rests ever in the ether's boundless space,
So know that all the beings, great and small,
Rest in My presence, answering to My call.

O son of Kunti, at the close of time,
All beings enter My own nature's clime,
And at the dawn of a new kalpa's day,
I send them forth, upon their fleeting way.

Animating My own nature, I again
And yet again, send forth this helpless train
Of beings, by the force of nature's might,
Into the world, of darkness and of light.

These actions, Partha, do not bind Me fast,
Sitting as one, indifferent to the last,
Unattached to all these deeds of mine,
My presence through creation will entwine.

Under My guidance, nature brings to birth,
The moving and unmoving, on this earth,
By this means, son of Kunti, you will find,
The world revolves, a pattern for the mind.

The foolish disregard Me, when I wear
A human form, a guise that I can bear,
My higher being, they do not perceive,
As the great Lord of all, they can't believe.

Of vain hopes, and of actions ever vain,
Of knowledge too, that brings but little gain,
They share the nature, senseless and so low,
Of fiends and giants, in delusion's glow.

But the great souls, O Partha, who partake
Of My divine nature, for My sake,
Worship with mind that never turns away,
Knowing Me as the source, from which all things did stray,
Imperishable, eternal, and so true,
Their loving hearts, forever I renew.

Always glorifying Me, with all their might,
Striving with firmness, in devotion's light,
Bowing to Me, with reverence and with grace,
They worship Me, in this terrestrial place,
Ever-steadfast, with a love so deep,
Their sacred vows, they evermore will keep.

Others again, with sacrifice's flame
Of knowledge, worship Me, and speak My name,
As one, as distinct, or in forms so grand,
Facing all ways, across this mortal land.

I am the rite, the sacrifice so pure,
The offering to the fathers, to endure,
The healing herb, the mantra's sacred sound,
The butter clarified, on holy ground,
I am the fire, the offering's sweet perfume,
Dispelling darkness, conquering all gloom.

I am the father of this world so vast,
The mother, the dispenser, whose decrees will last,
The grandsire too, the one who must be known,
The purifier, on His sacred throne,
The syllable

Bhagavad Gita

Ask about this chapter

AI-Powered Insight