In plain words
he roused the man to wisdom. “Foolish one! When you were born, who came with you? After you die, who will come with you? No one comes with you. No one goes with you. You come all by yourself. You go all by yourself. You think it is all sorrow. This is sorrow, sorrow”: it is not so, he explained.
Again birth, again death, again lying in a mother's womb; in this worldly round, so very hard to cross, in Your mercy take me across; protect me, O Murāri.
Only one who reflects on himself is a true person
No one comes along with man. No one came along with him. When a certain man is about to die, his kin and friends all gather round him and weep. Just then this man came to himself a little. Looking at those around him, he asked, “Why are you weeping?” Then the relatives around him: “Sir! You are going; you are leaving the body; you are leaving this world. You will not come back any more. That is why we are weeping,” they answered. Then the man: “You foolish people! You imagine that I am leaving behind all the wealth I earned and won. I have no regret at all over this. All the wealth I leave behind goes to you alone. I am going with empty hands,” he said. Only one who reflects on himself is a true person. We must put the question “Who am I?” to ourselves and enquire. Instead of questioning yourself so, to everyone you look at: “Who are you? Who are you?” If you go on asking that, what answer is there to come? All these are nothing but sorrows bound up with delusion. Before marriage, who is the husband? Who is the wife? After death, who belongs to whom? No one at all comes along. No one is there. Clinging to such a body, impermanent and transient, we scramble on. “Each one for himself on the bank of the Yamunā”: so we must keep recognising this truth. Our Śānti must come to us. This Śānti is right in your heart.