। ॥ १२ ॥
In plain words
What remains for me to hear or ponder, when my vision is complete and Aparokṣa—immediate, never second-hand—and my light holds no doubt? My very being is the end of the split between Dhyātṛ, the meditator, and Dhyeya, what is meditated upon; nothing remains as an object of meditation. I am forever the one boundless savor of Sarvātma, the Ātma in all, so no Samādhi—meditative absorption—remains for me.
Close to the Sanskrit
What is there to be heard for me, whose vision is complete and whose knowing is Aparokṣa—immediate, not indirect? Nor is there anything whatever to be reflected upon for me, whose light is without doubt. For me, whose form is the ending of the distinction between Dhyātṛ, the meditator, and Dhyeya, the object of meditation, there is indeed nothing to meditate upon. I am always the single great essence of Sarvātma, the Ātma of all; nor is there Samādhi, meditative absorption, for me.