What seems like poison first, yet proves to be
The sweetest nectar of the Living Tree,
Is sattwic happiness and leads to Bliss
Through clear perception of the Self in Me.
Rajasic are those pleasures which arise
Through senses and the objects that they prize.
Like nectar first, like poison in the end,
These traitors are avoided by the wise.
That “happiness,” so called, which most offends
Is that which all the fire of Life expends.
Unconscious, drunk, unkempt—in such
Tamasic stupor it begins and ends.
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