he door of the Truth is covered by a golden disc. Open it, O Nourisher! Remove it so that I who have been worshipping the Truth may behold It. O Nourisher, lone Traveler of the sky! Controller! O Sun, offspring of Prajapati! Gather Your rays; withdraw Your light. I would see, through Your grace, that form of Yours which is the fairest. He, that Person who dwells there--is I myself!
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