Verse 34

³⁴Let him look at this reeling as the play of the mind, seen and gone again, far too restless, a circle made by a whirling brand. Knowing is one and shines as though it were many: that is maya, a dream, a splitting into three made by the pouring out of the strands. ³⁵Then let him turn the look back, his thirst gone, and be silent, tasting his own happiness, wanting nothing. If this is seen again somewhere, it will not bewilder him, once it has been let go as no real thing, though remembrance goes on until he falls. ³⁶One who is accomplished does not see the perishing body, whether it lies still or gets up, since he has come into what he really is; nor whether it has slipped away by what was allotted or been put on again by it, as a man blind with the drink of wine does not see the cloth wrapped round him.

³⁷The body too, with its breath, is under what was allotted, and waits out the work that set it going, as long as that lasts. But one who has climbed into the yoke of deep stillness, awake now to what is real, does not take up that spread-out thing again, made as it is of the stuff of dream.