Verse 27

²⁷And let him think on his arms, whose bracelets were scoured bright by the turning of Mount Mandara, arms that rule the guardians of the worlds; and on the wheel of a thousand spokes, whose blaze cannot be borne; and on the conch, a royal swan in that lotus hand. ²⁸Let him remember Kaumodaki, dear to the Bhagavan, smeared with the mud of the blood of enemy soldiers; and the garland loud with the voices of a swarm of bees; and the spotless gem at his throat, which is what the one who belongs to thought truly is. ²⁹Let him think on the lotus face of the Bhagavan, who took up a form here with a mind pitying those who serve him, the face whose spotless cheeks are lit by the swinging of his flashing fish-shaped earrings, and whose nose is noble.

³⁰Never letting himself grow slack, let him meditate, making it of the mind, on that face, the dwelling of Sri, waited on by bees, served by its own beauty and by masses of curling hair, its brows lifting, its eyes like a pair of fishes that put the lotus to shame. ³¹Let him meditate long in the cave of the heart, with a wide feeling, on that glance of his, sent out of pity from his eyes for the quieting of the three terrible burnings, filled out by a soft smile, and full of grace. ³²And on the laugh of Hari, most generous, which dries the sea of hot grief and tears in every world that bows to him; and the round of his brows, made by his own maya to bewilder the one whose banner is a fish, and made for the sage.

³³That smile is the road of meditation, the row of small teeth white as jasmine turned red by the shine of his full lower lip. Let him meditate on Visnu, come to rest in the hollow of his own body, his mind laid down in a devotion that melts, and let him want to look at nothing else.