Verse 14

¹⁴Salutation to the highest, whose own splendour has drunk down forever the delusion of difference, whose very mind is awakening. To you, whose play is the one occasion of the world's rising and standing and dissolving, to the Lord, we have made this bow. ¹⁵Those who, helpless as the breath goes out, call the names of him, names that carry his descents and his qualities and his deeds in mimicry, throw off in that instant the stain of birth upon birth and go to the deathless, uncovered. To that unborn one I give myself. ¹⁶He who is I, and the mountain-lord, and the pervading one himself, the causes of standing and arising and dissolving; who, breaking through his own root, grew up one, three-footed, with wide-spreading shoots: salutation to that Bhagavan, the tree of the worlds.

¹⁷The world sets itself on wrong work and is heedless of the good work you declared, the worship of you, which is its own. He who is strong here and cuts through its hope of living in a moment: salutation to him, who does not blink. ¹⁸Even I am afraid of him, I who sit in a station lasting two parardhas that all the worlds bow to, and who did austerity through many long pressings, wanting to reach it. To that Bhagavan, lord over sacrifice, to you: salutation. ¹⁹He who among the birth-forms of living things, beasts and men and gods and the rest, by his own wish and out of a wish to keep the bounds he himself set, took his pleasure there in a body held to its limits, though he has put away all delight: salutation to that Bhagavan, the best of Persons.