In plain words
The poet, to his heart: O my heart! If you would cast off the eight things that bring you low [ignorance, deeds, their traces, the taste for them, the bond with the body, and the three kinds of suffering], be free of every sorrow, go up on high by the path of light and enjoy the highest heaven, then bow and praise, thinking on the feet of my Father, who gives knowledge of the self, who is like the sun to the senses, and who, as a boar, dug up the whole world on a single tusk.