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the minute existence of pride sitting inside... somewhere... at a distance. Then, when is pride satisfied? Without satisfaction the life is defective, this is why this defective life scorched in the strong desire for praise, for fame remains deprived of the dense, cool shade of the spontaneous shouts of applause of blissful virtues.
That way, the word 'sva' (self) is itself telling that 'sva' is riches, 'sva' is the rule of providence, 'sva' is the abode of treasure. The realisation of 'sva' is the realisation of all, then, why compare the incomparable? Seeing their hollowness thus disclosed by the cheeks those ear-rings of gold become more dull, lusterless.
The seth is wearing yellow dress from head to foot, having the lustre of a stalk of a lotus;
342 :: Silent Soil
