In plain words
The belly is a trough of filth, urine and stench, mind you; the whole body is a mound of stench, mind you; this itself is the strange house of the Ātma in the body: do not forget a good word such as this.
Embodiments of Prema!
Every man longs for Ānanda alone; he does not ask for sorrow. For such unbroken Ānanda man makes many efforts, day and night. But he cannot reach the Ānanda he longs for. What is the reason? Deluded that this body and these senses alone are himself, he scrambles after comforts, pleasures, riches and things that belong to that body and those senses; thinking that Ānanda will come when he gets such objects and vehicles, he toils for them day and night. The Ānanda man longs for is not in the world outside. The Ānanda man longs for is not in objects and vehicles. The Ānanda man longs for is not to be seen in sense objects and persons either. Whatever efforts man makes to gain such Ānanda, which is not there, all of them turn out to be in vain. Keeping just such a man in view: “O man, the Ānanda you long for is not in objects and vehicles of the outer world, nor in persons, nor in sense objects. The Ānanda for which you are tormented, the Ānanda for which you make efforts of so many kinds, that very Ānanda is your form. You yourself are the embodiment of Ānanda; to forget it and search for Ānanda in this world whose form is of Prakṛti is Ajñāna,” so the Veda teaches.
Objects and vehicles that merely belong to the body and the senses, matters that belong to the world, forms that belong to the physical frame: all these alike are momentary. This seen world, whatever appears to us as fashioned by the seeing: all this is bound to change. To find changeless Ānanda in changing objects and vehicles, in sense objects and in persons: this is sheer madness. The Veda has been warning that such eternal Ānanda comes to us only in the principle of the Ātma, which is eternal Satya. Carrying on an outward inquiry serves only for a passing joy; lasting Ānanda does not come to us from it. Man must make himself ready for the inner search. Only then can he experience the Ānanda he longs for.
In infancy the child takes his mother's lap alone for something lasting; believing that his mother herself is his safety in every way, he sleeps free of care in that mother's lap, the child.