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Arjuna. What is that Brahman? What that Self of Souls? What, Thou Best of all the Beings! is that work — The vital operation called Karma? What Is Adhibhuta — the domain of things? And Adhidaiva, Lord! what meaneth this? How is Adhiyajna in this body here? And at the hour of death, how art Thou known By those whose hearts are set upon Thy truth?

Krishna. I, Brahman, am! — the One Exhaustless Life. Nature is called Adhibhuta, and that Living soul of things is Adhidaiva; And, Slayer of Madhu! for all sacrifice Done in the body, I am Adhiyajna. The Self of Souls; for I am owner here Of flesh and bone. That man who, at his death, Fixes his spirit on Me, comes to Me When he is dead; of this, be very sure!

Whosoever, at the end, leaveth this life, Whatever form his spirit contemplates, To that same form he goes, being made of it. Think then of Me, fight thou for Me! with mind And reason set on Me, thou surely shalt Come unto Me. It is the rule, dear Prince! The soul, oft-exercised in thinking well, With meditation centred inwardly, Reaches at last unto the Lord of all.

Who ponders Me — the Supreme, the All-knowing, The Eternal One, the smallest of the small, The Prop and Pillar of all things that be, Whose form is past imagining, whose splendour Glows brighter than the sun — yea, who regards That Uttermost, with mind fixed and devout, In the hour of death, by the strong power of Yoga, Drawing life-breath up betwixt the brows, He is united with that Lord of Lords!

Now I will teach thee what the wisest say Of that abode the ascetics strive to reach, Vow-keeping, freed from passions. That, the sages Call "The Unperishing." To gain that state, All portals of the body being closed, The mind imprisoned in the heart, the breath Drawn up into the head, with steadfast thought, He who dies thus, intoning OM — the sign Of Brahma, the Eternal — dwelling thus On Me in parting, finds the Path of Me.

To him who ceaselessly in Me is bent, Who thinks of nothing else, I am easy found, O ever-faithful Prince! And, finding Me, Birth no more shall visit him, nor pain, Nor age, nor death; he enters My abode — House of the happy — to return no more.

All the worlds — even Brahma's world itself — Revolve again; but he who comes to Me Knows no rebirth. A thousand Yugas make One day of Brahma, and his night the same. When that day breaks, all manifested things Spring from the Unshown; when that night returns, All sink again into the Unmanifest. Yea! this vast company of living things — Again and yet again produced — expires At fall of Night, O Son of Pritha! and springs Afresh at Dawn of Day.

But — Loss and Gain, Life and Death, and all beyond them — there abides A Being that is beyond, the Unmanifest, The Imperishable: when all things perish, That Perisheth not. Men call this "The Supreme," "The Highest Goal!" and whoso reacheth it Cometh no more to birth. That is My home! That changeless, highest, utmost dwelling-place Is Mine; and they who reach it suffer not.

I will declare to thee, best Prince! the times Wherein the Yogis, quitting flesh, return — Or, quitting it, come back no more. By fire, By light, in daytime, in the moon's bright half, During the six months of the northward sun, Dying, the holy ones who know the Truth Go unto Brahman. By the smoke, at night, The dark fortnight, the months of southward sun, The Yogi, dying so, attains the light Of Luna, and returns.

These be the roads — The bright, the dark — whereby the children of men Depart. He who goeth by the bright doth not Return; he who goeth by the dark comes back. Knowing these twain paths, the Yogi errs not, Prince! Wherefore, in every time, be fixed in Yoga! The merit gained in Vedic rites, in alms, In austerities, is all exceeded far By him who, learning this, attains to Me — The First, the Last, the Living, the Beloved!