In plain words
In short, the inner meaning of this is that the senses only do their work; it is the Manas that experiences the joy. But in what way does this Manas experience the joy? It experiences a blind joy. It has satisfied some hunger or other. This weakness has lessened. The joy has grown. When it is hungry it takes up whatever there is and eats. This trait belongs to the Manas. But the Buddhi is something else, apart from it. It is the third. It is discriminating knowledge. What to eat, what not to eat, what to eat so that our health improves, and what our health will not improve without: this weighing of the lasting and the passing belongs only to the Buddhi.
When the Manas acts on the support of this Buddhi, which has discriminating knowledge, the body enjoys the conduct of this Manas as joy. Whatever work we think of doing, we must weigh there the lasting and the passing. Is this good or bad? Is it fit to be done, or not fit to be done! If this power of inquiry becomes void, the Manas turns blind. It turns blind. But what is it that gives life to this body, to this Manas, to this Buddhi, that nourishes them and makes them move? That is the Ātma. The man who takes this body, only the body, as the thing he is one with, gains the pleasure of the senses. This man, the one who has made the Manas the thing he is one with, enjoys only physical comforts and pleasures. When he makes the Buddhi itself the thing he is one with, he becomes one full of Vijñāna. The one who believes the Ātma itself to be what he is one with attains Ānanda. Here we must inquire. Pleasures bring diseases. So, through the pleasures that the body and the senses enjoy, there come to us the diseases called attachment and hatred. Because we enjoy these with discriminating knowledge, Vijñāna grows. But when we set this Vijñāna on the path of Ānanda, we attain the Ātma principle. Today do we want pleasures? Do we want Vijñāna? Do we want Ānanda? We must decide this for ourselves. Those who follow Ānanda, those who long for Ānanda, must work with their sight on the Ātma.
When we work with this sight on the Ātma, sameness comes, and Dvaita, which is difference, does not enter into it at all. To the one who looks, the world is vast. But when we hold the sight of the One who created this vast world, the world itself is empty for us. So we must take hold of what is the root and support of everything.