Verse 8

⁸My grandfather Prahlada, whom your own people honour, in whom a good word was made plain, was brought to strange torments by his own father, who stood against you, while he himself had you for his highest. ⁹What is this self worth, which leaves us at the end? What are they worth, the takers of our goods, the thieves who go by the name of our own people? What is a wife worth, who becomes the cause of the round of birth? What are houses worth to a mortal here, whose life is only spending? ¹⁰Having settled it so, my grandfather, the great one, whose understanding had no floor to it, afraid of people, went for refuge to your lotus feet, which are firm and have no fear from any side -- yours, though you destroy his own side, best of the good.

¹¹And now I too have been brought by fate, and by force, close to you, the enemy of my self, and made to let go my fortune: the fortune by which a man of stiffened mind does not learn that this life of his stands next to its ending and does not last.