Beauty

I come to the palace of the creator. I am the glory of the brahmins, the glory of the kings, and the glory of the commoners. I wish to attain that glory. I am the glory of all glories. May I never go to the place of suffering.

Because you desired wisdom above all else, and did not ask for victory over your enemies, or riches, or long life, I will give you not only the wisdom you asked for to rule my people righteously, but also the things you did not ask for: riches, wealth, and glory, so that there will be no king like you before or after you.

The psychic personality within us blossoms as the saint, the sage, or the seer. When it reaches its full potential, it directs the being toward self-awareness and the divine, toward the highest truth, goodness, beauty, love, and bliss, and the divine expanses, opening us to the experience of spiritual sympathy, universality, and oneness.

Wearing divine garlands and garments, anointed with divine fragrances — all-wondrous, the God, infinite, facing every direction.

Indeed, it is this Krishna of boundless and radiant energy who has created the forests and the mountains.

This secret psychic entity is the true, original conscience within us, deeper than the conventional conscience constructed by moralists. It always points us towards truth, rightness, beauty, love, harmony, and all the divine possibilities within us, persisting until these become the primary needs of our nature.

The mind is unable to possess the infinite, it can only be affected by it or be completely taken over by it. All it can do is blissfully surrender to the real, under the radiant presence that extends from planes of existence beyond its grasp.

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace and goodwill towards all people.

The heart that has been consumed by worldly desires cannot be influenced by higher feelings and cannot be shaped into a beautiful form.

My Divine Mother is not only formless, but she also has forms. One can see her forms and behold her incomparable beauty through feelings and love.

Among the Sāma hymns I am the Bṛhatsāman; among metres I am the Gāyatrī; among months I am Mārgaśīrṣa; among seasons I am the flower-bearing spring.

Every single syllable of the Guru Gītā is the sovereign mantra — chant it. All other various mantras do not equal even one-sixteenth part of a single syllable of the Guru Gītā.

O beautiful-faced One, now I shall describe the places suitable for recitation done with a specific desire: at the seashore, on the bank of a river, or in a temple of Viṣṇu or Śiva.

O fair-faced one, do not deceive yourself about the nature of this body — it is the dwelling of worms and insects, destined for ash; it harbors foul waste, excretion, phlegm, blood, skin, and flesh.

Thy Curly Locks in tangled Masses fall / About thy Rosy Cheeks that hold me thrall, / On every separate Strand of thy soft Hair / There hangs a Heart, — a Heart upon them all.

The Mountain Tulip lasts but seven days, / The River Violet lives but seven days, / And I will cry the news from town to town / That Rosy Cheeks keep faith but seven days.

O thou whose eyes are shadowy with kohl, / O thou whose slender figure works my Dole, / Whose locks with musk are laden, art thou dumb, / That thus with Silence thou shouldst rend my Soul?

Thy pictured Beauty, Love, ne'er leaves my Heart, / Thy downy cheek becomes of me a part, / Tightly I'll close mine eyes, O Love, that so / My Life, before thine Image, shall depart.

If there is anyone who is all-beautiful, all-wise, and all-merciful, and who loves the forlorn, it is Rama alone. No one else can compare to him as a selfless friend and giver of eternal bliss.

Considering this, O Garuda with a resolute mind, abandon all doubts and skepticism, and worship the all-beautiful Rama, the hero of Raghu's lineage, a fountain of mercy and the delight of all.