Verse 8

⁸Homage to you, lord of the lords of the gods, who take away the pain of those who come to you, and who are never spent. Guard us, Krsna, who have come to you sick of this fearful round of birth. ⁹Master, slayer of Madhu, we do not blame this Magadha. That kings should fall from their kingdoms is your grace, mighty one. ¹⁰A king swollen with the pride of kingdom and lordship does not find what is good for him. Bewildered by your maya, he takes riches, which do not last, for things that stand still. ¹¹As children take a mirage for a body of water, so men who are not yoked look at maya, which is made of change, and call it a real thing.