Cymbals, clappers, and drums sound as one; the son of Devaki has become the champion of the arena. Come, let us see this wonder, O brothers. Why are you entangled in worldly affairs? Some fortunate ones have gone ahead as companions; such bliss is not found in all three worlds. There are debates of joy and dialogues of happiness; each shows the other his delight. With all six, eighteen, and four playing in unison, they dance in circles to the pure beat of the cymbals. The devotees are adorned with their sacred marks and ornaments, shining with sandalwood paste. Girded with strength and beauty, they roar the Name aloud. Hari, Hara, Brahma, the river Bhima with all its sacred sites, thirty-three crore gods, all stand amazed and spellbound. Even the citizens of Vaikuntha speak of its glory, yet none can match the splendor of Pandhari. Says the servant of Tuka, do not be lazy; I am telling this to all men and women.