Verse 26

²⁶Where am I, born out of passion, Lord, in this breed where darkness is greater still, born among the enemies of the gods, and where is your kindness? Not on Brahma, not on Bhava, not even on Fortune was your favour laid as the lotus of your hand is laid on my head. ²⁷Surely there is no reckoning of high and low in you, as there is in a creature; you are the world's own friend. Still, your favour comes by serving, as a tree of heaven gives: the rising is according to the service, and not from being higher or lower. ²⁸So I, fallen into the snake-pit of birth, chasing one desire after another out of clinging, was made his own by the divine sage and taken up by you, Bhagavan. How could I ever let go the service of your servants?

²⁹The saving of my life, Endless one, and my father's death: I hold that both were to make true the words of the sage who serves you. For, taking up his sword, meaning wrong, he said: Let the lord other than me save you. I take your head. ³⁰You alone are this world, and you stand apart from it at its beginning and its end and in the middle. Having brought out this stirring of the strands by your own maya and entered it afterwards, you are taken by them to be many. ³¹You are this, what is and what is not, Lord, and you are other than it. Maya is this thought that speaks of self and other, and it has no ground. If a thing is born and dies and stands and is seen, it is that very thing, as substance and time are of the fruit stone and the tree.