Verse 4

¹Bow and bow again to you whose body is the cause of things, and who have made your own body of no account by what you are in yourself. Bow to you, whose lasting experience is hidden under the marks of one shaken off, a disgrace to the twice-born. ²As true medicine to a man sick with fever, as cold water to one burnt by the summer heat, so are your words to me, brahmin: a deathless drink and a cure for one whose sight has been bitten by the snake of pride in this poor body. ³So I will ask you later about what is in doubt for me. Just now, tell me, whose mind is all eagerness, in a way that is easy to grasp, what you have said, strung together with the yoga that goes inward to the self.

⁴Master of yoga, when you said that the fruit of action, which is there to be seen, is the root of true dealing, that does not go straight to the weighing of what is real. My mind wanders about in it.