नाहं प्रकाशः सर्वस्य योगमायासमावृतः।मूढोऽयं नाभिजानाति लोको मामजमव्ययम्॥
nāhaṃ prakāśaḥ sarvasya yoga-māyā-samāvṛtaḥmūḍho ’yaṃ nābhijānāti loko mām ajam avyayam
Word by word
The verse says
I am not on show to everyone. I am covered over by the play of my own power. This confused world does not recognise me, unborn and unchanging.
In plain words
Not hidden on purpose, to test anybody.
Yoga-māyā — his own power of appearing — is what covers him, and it is the same power that makes the world visible at all.
The brightness of the display is the reason you cannot see what is doing the displaying.
Where you've felt this · in health
The power goes out at night and for the first minute you can see nothing at all. It feels as though the room has been taken away. Stand still and wait, and the shapes come back one at a time — the doorway, the table, your own hand. The room did not change in those two minutes. Your seeing did.
Going deeper
Being hidden by your own light is a strange way to be hidden, and it is exactly what is claimed.
Yoga-māyā is the power by which the unmanifest shows up as a world. It is not a curtain hung in front of something. It is the display itself. Which means the very fact that there is something here to look at is what makes the looker miss it.
This is why the Gita never treats disbelief as stupidity. Not seeing is the default condition, built into the way seeing works, and the verse says so without a trace of irritation.
It also lowers the stakes on a question people torment themselves with. If you have never had an experience of God, nothing here concludes that you are shut out, or insincere, or behind. It concludes that your eyes are adjusted to the light that is on.