Time and the terrible vision

Devouring all the worlds on every side with your flaming mouths, you lick them up. Your fierce rays fill the whole universe with fire and scorch it, O Vishnu.

Tell me who you are, so terrible in form. Homage to you, greatest of gods—have mercy. I wish to know you, the primal one; I do not understand your purpose.

I am time, grown mighty, destroyer of the worlds, here at work to annihilate the worlds. Even without you, none of these warriors arrayed in the opposing ranks will survive.

Therefore rise up and win glory. Conquer your enemies and enjoy a flourishing kingdom. By me alone they are already slain; be merely the instrument, Savyasāchin.

Drona, Bhīshma, Jayadratha, Karna, and the other brave warriors as well—these, already slain by me, you must kill. Do not be troubled; fight, and you will conquer your rivals in battle.

Hearing this speech of Keshava, the crowned one, trembling, joined his palms, bowed low, and once more addressed Krishna, his voice breaking, terrified, bowing down.

It is fitting, Hrishikesha, that the world rejoices and delights in your glory—that the rākshasas flee in terror in every direction, and all the hosts of perfected beings bow down to you.

And why should they not bow to you, great being—greater even than Brahmā, his first cause? Infinite one, Lord of the gods, dwelling place of the universe, you are the imperishable, being and non-being, and what is beyond both.

You are the primal god, the ancient Puruṣa. You are the highest resting place of this universe. You are the knower and the thing to be known, and the supreme abode. By you this universe is pervaded, O form without end.

You are Vāyu, Yama, Agni, Varuna, the moon, Prajāpati, and the great forefather. Homage to you, a thousand times homage, and again and again, homage, homage to you!

Homage to you from in front and from behind, homage to you from every side, O all! Infinite in power and immeasurable in might, you reach everywhere—therefore you are everything.

Whatever I have carelessly said out of rashness or affection—calling out, "Krishna! Yādava! Friend!"—not knowing this greatness of yours, through negligence or through love; and whatever disrespect I showed you in jest, at play, in bed, sitting, or at meals, whether alone or in company, O Achyuta—for all that I ask your forgiveness, immeasurable one.

You are the father of this world, moving and unmoving; you are its object of worship, its greatest teacher. No one is your equal—how could there be anyone greater—in the three worlds, O one of matchless power.

So, bowing down, prostrating my body, I beg your forgiveness, Lord worthy of praise. As a father bears with his son, a friend with a friend, a lover with the one he loves, so should you bear with me, O God.

I am overjoyed to have seen what was never seen before, yet my mind trembles with fear. Show me again, God, only that other form of yours. Have mercy, Lord of the gods, dwelling place of the universe.

I wish to see you again just as before, crowned, bearing mace, discus in hand. Take on once more that same four-armed form, you of a thousand arms, whose body is the universe.

Out of grace, Arjuna, I have shown you, through my own power of yoga, this supreme form of mine—radiant, universal, infinite, primal—which no one but you has ever seen before.

Not by study of the Vedas and sacrifice, not by gifts, not by rites, not by fierce austerities can I be seen in this form by anyone else in the human world but you, great hero of the Kurus.

Do not be afraid, and do not be bewildered, having seen this terrifying form of mine. With your fear dispelled and your heart glad, now look again at this other, familiar form of mine.

Having spoken thus to Arjuna, Vāsudeva showed his own form once more; and the great being, taking on again his gentle form, comforted him in his terror.

Seeing this gentle human form of yours again, Janārdana, I am now composed in mind and restored to my own nature.

This form of mine that you have seen is very hard to see. Even the gods are forever longing to behold this form.

Not by the Vedas, not by austerity, not by gifts, not by sacrifice can I be seen in the way you have seen me.

But by unwavering devotion alone, Arjuna, can I be known in this way, seen in truth, and entered into, scorcher of enemies.

Whoever does work for me alone, holds me as the highest goal, is devoted to me, free of attachment, without hatred toward any being—he comes to me, Pāndava.