Verse 18

¹³Today our eyes have got what they were made for, by seeing you who are the whole heap of what is. Praised one, yogins settled in yoga long for that sight through birth after good birth. ¹⁴Those whose wits your maya has struck down wait on your lotus feet, which are the boat across the sea of becoming, for a scrap of what they want; and you give them those things, Lord, which could be had even in hell. ¹⁵I am one of them: wanting to marry a woman of my own temper, the milk-cow of a householder's life, I have come with a poor heart in me to the root of the tree that yields every wish, the root of everything there is. ¹⁶Lord, by the word of the lord of creatures, which is your word, this world struck through with desire is bound to a cord and tied. And I, following the world, bring my offering to you, white one, whose eye does not close.

¹⁷Others leave the worlds behind, and those who follow the worlds, and the beasts as well, and take shelter under the umbrella of your feet, carried past what the body asks for, one with another, by the liquor and nectar of talk about you. ¹⁸That unaging wheel of yours does not take away their span: the wheel with thirteen spokes and three hundred and sixty joints, six rims and leaves past counting, three naves, a terrible current, racing on and cutting the world short as it goes.