The works of Ādi Śaṅkarācārya

Bṛhadāraṇyakopaniṣadbhāṣyam

Verse 255

तमेतं वेदानुवचनेन ब्राह्मणा विविदिष-न्ति यज्ञेन दानेन तपसानाशकेनैतमेवविदित्वा मुनिर्भवति ।एतमेव प्रव्राजिनोलोकमिच्छन्तः प्रव्रजन्ति ।एतद्ध स्म वैतत्पूर्वे विद्वांसः प्रजां न कामयन्ते किंप्रजया करिष्यामो येषां नोऽयमात्मायंलोक इति ते ह स्म पुत्रैषणायाश्च वित्तै-षणायाश्च लोकैषणायाश्च व्युत्थायाथभिक्षाचर्यं चरन्ति या ह्येव पुत्रैषणा सावित्तैषणा या वित्तैषणा सा लोकैषणोभेह्येते एषणे एक भवतः ।स एष नेति ने-त्यात्मागृह्यो न हि गृह्यतेऽशीर्यो न हिशीर्यतेऽसङ्गो न हि सज्यतेऽसितो न व्य-थते न रिष्यत्येतमु हैवैते न तरत इत्यतःपापमकरवमित्यतः कल्याणमकरवमित्यु-भे उ हैवैष एते तरति नैनं कृताकृते तपतः ॥

In plain words

This is the self that Brahmins try to know through reciting the Veda, through sacrifice, through giving, through discipline, through fasting; and simply by knowing this, one becomes a true sage. It is this very self, as their whole world, that wandering renunciants are after when they walk away from everything. This, in fact, is why the wise of old never wanted children: 'What would we even do with children,' they said, 'we for whom this self is already the entire world?' So they let go of the longing for sons, the longing for wealth, and the longing for other worlds, and lived instead on alms. Because really, wanting a son is the same as wanting wealth, and wanting wealth is the same as wanting some future world — both desires are, in the end, one and the same desire. This self can only be described as 'not this, not this.' You cannot grasp it, because it is never caught. It cannot decay, because it never wears down. It never attaches to anything, because nothing sticks to it. It is unbound; it does not suffer; nothing can harm it. Whoever knows this is no longer overcome by either of two thoughts — 'I have done wrong,' 'I have done right.' Instead, that person rises above both. Neither what was done nor what was left undone can touch him.

Close to the Sanskrit

This one — this self — Brahmins seek to know through recitation of the Veda, through sacrifice, through giving, through austerity, through fasting; having known this alone, one becomes a sage. Desiring this very self as their world, wandering renunciants go forth. This, indeed, is why in ancient times the wise did not desire offspring, saying: 'What shall we do with offspring, we for whom this self is this world?' They, having risen up from the desire for sons, the desire for wealth, and the desire for other worlds, then wander living on alms. For the desire for a son is indeed the desire for wealth; the desire for wealth is the desire for other worlds — both these desires are indeed one. This self is 'not this, not this'; it is ungraspable, for it is not grasped; it is undecaying, for it does not decay; it is unattached, for it does not cling; it is unbound, it does not suffer, it is not injured. These two — 'I have done wrong,' 'I have done good' — do not overcome one who knows this; rather, he overcomes both of these; what is done and what is left undone do not torment him.