In plain words
One is black. The second is white, the third is red. This white, red and black. These we see every day. Night is darkness; that is black. By daybreak the black goes and the red begins. The rays of the sun. This red colour changes and turns into a bright white. Where did this red come from? It came from the black. Where did this white come from? It came from the red. So from black it turned to red, and from red to white. So at the time each human being is born, all without exception are śūdras. They are in Ajñāna, black. If we go on transforming this Ajñāna step by step, it turns into the rajoguṇa. This very rajoguṇa takes the form of the sāttvic. So one who has excitement, who has attachment and hatred, is red. That, they said, is the kṣatriya. One who has pure and divine feelings, they said, is the brāhmaṇa. One who wastes away in stupidity and Ajñāna, they said, is the śūdra. So not all are fools. Not all are heroes. Not all are sāttvic. It was on the basis of the guṇas and karmas in each that they divided people into varṇas in this way. All are the very forms of God. Each and every person has the form of God. A mother has four sons. The eldest son studies the Vedas well, develops all his learning, and comes to be called a scholar of high standing. The second joins the war and becomes a great warrior. They call him a sepoy. The third enters business and becomes known as a great merchant. The fourth thinks, "Why should the father's land be wasted?", cultivates it, raises crops and becomes a farmer. The fourth is a tiller of the soil. The third is a merchant. The second is a kṣatriya, a warrior. The first is a great scholar. He is a scholar, this one a kṣatriya, this one a merchant, this one a śūdra: are not these four children of one mother? These names came according to their callings. But truly seen, all are children of one mother. So we must not hold to these differences at all. Today we are becoming lower than the trees. In every heart we must sound the Name of God equally.
"Sāī's Name alone is bliss, remember it," the trees say, nodding their heads; "Sāī's Name alone is bliss, remember it," the young of the birds say; "Sāī's Name alone is bliss, remember it," the flowers say, as they shower their fragrance; "Sāī's Name alone is bliss, remember it," the bees cry with their hum; from the sky this very sound comes; from the earth too this very sound comes; "Sāī, Sāī," filling all the directions, it resounds through Parti.