Verse 37

³²If he does see an object of the senses, unreal and set against everything else by many inferences, the thoughtful man does not take it for a thing, as one who has got up does not take a dream, which has gone. ³³What was taken up before, the not-knowing painted over with the strands and with works, not told apart within the self, dear one, turns back again by that very looking; and the self is neither taken up nor let go. ³⁴As the rising of the sun kills the darkness for men's eyes but does not make what is real, so a true and skilled looking at me kills the thick darkness of a man's understanding. ³⁵This one is its own light, unborn, not to be measured, the great experiencing, the experiencing of all; one, with no second, where words come to rest; and it is by his sending that speech and the breaths go about.

³⁶This much is the self's bewildering of itself: that there should be division in what is one and alone, in the self; for that division has no support apart from the self itself. ³⁷What is to be got hold of by names and shapes, of five colours, not set aside: this is a saying of meaning made out of what has no meaning, the pair of them belonging to men who think themselves learned.