Those who have their faces turned away from Hari and Hara and have no love for righteousness cannot even dream of going there. On the summit of that mountain exists a huge banyan tree, which is ever young and is charming during all seasons. Fanned by cool, soft and fragrant breezes, its shade is very refreshing. It is the favourite resort of Ýiva, extolled by the Vedas. Once upon a time the Lord betook Himself beneath the tree and was much gladdened at heart to see it. Spreading His tigerskin on the ground with His own hands, the all-merciful Ýiva sat down casually. His body fair in hue as the jasmine, the moon and the conch-shell; arms of inordinate length; a hermit’s covering, consisting of the bark of trees, wrapped round His loins; His feet resembling a pair of full-blown red lotuses and their toe-nails shedding a lustre which dispelled the darkness of the devotee’s heart; serpents and the ashes serving as ornaments of the Slayer of Tripura and His countenance eclipsing the splendour even of the autumnal full moon. (1—4)