By Abhirama Bhattar
Translated by P. R. Ramachander
Abhirami is the Goddess of Thirukadayur near MayiladuThurai town of Tamil Nadu. The Lord Shiva who presides over the temple is called Amritha Gateswarar. It is believed that while transporting the Nectar (Amritha) which they got by churning the ocean of milk, the Devas kept a pot of Amritha in Thirukadayur.This pot became one with the land and became the siva linga. It is also believed that it is at this temple that the Sage Markandeya prayed Lord Shiva and could avoid death forever.
Abhirami means “She who is attractive every moment of time”. This goddess is believed to be extremely powerful and fulfills the wishes of all her devotees. One of her great devotees of the past was Abhirama Bhattar. He was so much her devotee that he never used to think of any other thing except her. This made him look like a mad man. People even suspected him of practicing evil rites. One day Raja Serfoji, the Mahratta king who was ruling over Tanjore visited the temple. The Archakas told him about Abhirama Bhattar. The king while returning to the palace casually asked Abhirama Bhattar the Thithi. Abhirama Bhattar who was at the time seeing the Goddess in his reverie, answered that it was Pournami (Full moon). Raja went his way. But actually the day was Amavasya (New moon). Bhattar realized his mistake soon and felt extremely sorry. He then set up 100 rope hangings and hung in them. Below he created a huge fire. He prayed Goddess Abhirami to prove that he is right. This he did by singing 100 stanzas in praise of Abhirami.As soon as one stanza was completed one rope was cut. He also composed the stanzas in such a way that the first word of a stanza was the last word of previous stanza (this style of poem is called Anthadhi meaning end-start).It is believed that when he completed the 79th stanza, the Goddess appeared before him and reassured him that she will do the needful. She took her Thadanga (a diamond ornament) and threw it in the sky where it stood. This was so sparkling that it appeared like a full moon. The Goddess also ordered Abhirama Bhattar to complete his poem. He continued and ended with 100 stanzas. Raja Serfoji realized how great Abhirama Bhattar was and honoured him.
Each stanza of the poem Abhirami Andhathi is a gem of poetry in itself. The language is not the spoken Tamil and this was further complicated by the fact that the first word of the next stanza should be the last word of the previous stanza, making the thought process of the stanza entwined.
An attempt has been made here to translate Abhirami Andhathi in to free verse and following the rules of Andhathi.In other words, it would be Abhirami End-start poem.
The meaning and import of the stanzas composed by Abhirama Bhattar are retained in English too. I hope you would enjoy this attempt. Not being a great poet either in Tamil or English, I believe that there are likely to be errors and shortcomings. I beseech you to pardon me for those.
Oh black coloured Ganapathi.
Who is the son of the Lord of Chidambara,
Adorned by the red iris and perfumed Champaka flowers,
And my goddess Uma,
Who shares half her Lord’s body,
Please grant me, my desire,
That this song whose one verse begins,
With the last word of the previous one,
Praising my mother Abhirami,
Who created all the seven worlds,
Should remain in my mind forever.
She who has the reddish sun as a tilaka,
She who is the red gem for those who understand her and worship,
She who is like the tender bud of pomegranate,
She who is the first ray of lightning,
She who is the reddish liquid made of saffron,
She who is like the Lakshmi sitting on red lotus,
She only is my life’s all help.
Help thine is needed from thee,
Oh, most beautiful one in the three cities,
Who has the cool flowers as her arrows,
Who uses the sweet cane for her bow,
And who has the rope and the ankusha in her hand,
To know that you are in the Vedas,
And in its different branches,
And as holy drops in Upanishads,
And as Pranava in its roots,.
And Oh mother, make me realize.
Realized I have, Oh mother Abhirami,
Of the meaning of Vedas, which no one knows,
And that you shower the wealth of your grace,
On those who worship at your feet.
Those who do not understand,
The greatness of devotees thine,
And fall from hell to hell,
Parted company, I have from those men.
Men, immortal sages and devas,
Bow down at your feet, Oh beautiful one,
You and he,
The holy one who wears the garland of iris,
Who has the coolest moon on his head,
And the snake and the river,
Should always my mind occupy.
Occupy you did, those three great cities,
Oh you, whose tender waist cries
Because it carries thine two breasts,
Which are like the saffron pot,
Oh you, who made the poison taken by Siva into nectar great,
Oh you more beautiful than the great lotus dear,
Oh most beautiful one of all the world,
Keep thine two holy feet my mother, on my head.
Head of mine is below your lotus like feet,
Heart of mine forever is full of manthras praising you,
Oh red colured pretty one,
Think and discuss I always,
With thine devotees great,
Verses singing thine praise and thine agamas and rules.
Ruling my life, you always have,
Churn it like curd,
Birth after birth,
In miseries great,
And take me to salvation great,
Oh, you who has reddish feet,
Who is forever worshipped,
By the four faced Lord, doing his creation nonstop,
By the great Lord Vishnu, doing the upkeep,
And by thine Lord Chandrasekara doing
His job of destruction great,
Oh, mother mine with reddish dot,
Who is always pretty and winsome.
Winsome goddess who is the consort of my Lord,
Who can cut all attachments of mine forever,
Who is the most pretty red coloured one,
Who killed Mahisha that great ogre of yore,
And danced on his head,
Who is a forever a lass,
Who holds the skull of Brhama in her hand,
Let your feet never fade away from my thoughts.
Thoughts of the Lord, you ever occupy,
You who is like the ever-shining golden lamp ready to give light,
And are ready to give milk, to the crying child,
From your ever beautiful breasts,
Please come, you who wears the necklace of pearl in your neck,
You who hold the bow made of flowers in your hand,
And you who has white teeth like the base of peacocks feather,
And my mother come before me and stand.
Standing, sitting, lying and walking,
I think and worship your lotus like feet,
Oh grace giving Uma, who is the ultimate aim of unwritten Vedas,
And who appeared in the foothills of Himalayas,
You give us all the perennial redemption,
And are of the form of everlasting happiness
Happiness is your feet,
Wisdom is your feet,
Fully filled nectar is your feet,
Your feet is of the form of endless horizon,
Your feet is the ultimate aim of the four Vedas,
Oh, mother Abhirami,
The Lord who dances in ash,
Keeps his head on your feet and feels it apt.
Apt to my thought is your fame,
Apt to my daily learning is your name,
Apt to my devotion is your two lotus like feet,
Apt to my participation, day and night is the meeting of your devotees,
What good deeds I did in previous birth to attain,
This glorious state, oh mother,
Who like a child’s play,
These Seven worlds, created she.
She who creates these fourteen worlds,
Takes care of them forever
And destroys them at the time of deluge,
For she is greater than Siva who holds the poison in his neck,
For she is the sister of Vishnu who looks after the worlds,
And she has done great penance,
So except you my goddess,
Will I another salute.
Saluted by the asuras and devas you are,
Meditated you are by Vishnu and Brahma,
Always keeps you in his mind the great Lord Shiva
But in this earth, Oh mother Abhirami,
The devotes easily get your grace.
Your grace to get, they did penance,
Billions of years in several births,
And they got not only all the wealth this earth can give,
But also got the pleasures of the land of gods,
And the ultimate happiness,
Only few can get,
Oh Mother who talks better than the best poems,
You have the heavenly beauty of the greenest parrot..
Parrot you are oh mother,
Light in the hearts of your devotees, you are,
The source of all light you are,
Limitless empty space you are,
And Mother you are, who looks to us, as nature great,
Limitless you are chained in my limited mind,
Is this not a great wonder.
Wonderful is your look,
Oh Goddess Sundaravalli
The entire lotus in this world,
Were beaten hollow by your beautiful face.
Did you show to the world thine victory,
Over the Lord Shiva who made to ash,
The god of love Manmatha,
Who is the sweetheart of Rathi,
By thine playful action
And you his left side occupy.
Occupation of the left side,
Of the great Shiva,
And your life of endless happiness with the Lord,
And your look of a blushing bride,
With Him on your wedding day.
Should be my solace and help,
When the Lord of death comes to my bed,
For you will console me and appear.
Appearance yours is so pretty,
And caused happiness in me,
Which none can measure.,
And filled my mind with everlasting truth,
What greatness, did you find in me,
Oh mother who in the nine directions exist.
Exist do you not, oh goddess mine,
In the left side of the Shiva the great,
Or is it in the beginning of Vedas that Brahma recites,
Or is it in the end of Vedas, our great holy book,
Or is it in the nectar drenched by the full moon at night,
Or is it in the sea of milk where Indra’s wealth disappeared,
Or is it in the mind of this lowly devotee,
Be pleased to tell, Oh everlasting goodness.
Goodness and goodness alone,
You are, Mother mine
You are the holy married women forever.
You have breasts like the reddish pots,
You wear white conch bangles in your pretty hands,
You are the most accomplished in all the arts,
You share the left part of the God, who wears the Ganga,
You are of the colour of pure gold,
You are the colour of beautiful black,
And you are also of the pretty red colour of the sun,
Oh pretty one who is as tender as a creeper.
Creeper of tender Vanchi plant,
The karpaga tree on to which the creeper climbed,
You who have become ripe to make me realize,
You who have the heady incense of the four holy Vedas,
You who are the doe playing on the Himalayas,
You who are the mother of all Gods like Brahma,
Give me boon to die and never be born,
And me part of yours make.
Make not I, anything else,
As a part of my mind,
Except thee, my mother,
Nor will I part crowd of devotes thine,
And nor will I adopt any other truth except thee,
Oh Goddess, who is wide and full in all the three worlds,
And also spread beyond those worlds,
You who appear before me as honey,
And you, who are the pleasure of drinking honey,
You are in my eye like a pearl.
Pearl like you are,
You who are the reddish aura of the pearl
You who are like the pearl studded chain,
You who adds beauty to the chain,
You who are pain to those who do not fall at your feet,
You who are the panacea for pains of those who fall at your feet,
You who are the nectar of Gods,
After worshipping at thine lotus feet,
Will I bow before any other,
Now and now after.
After your devotees I ran,
And got from them the boon of no birth,
Even in my previous birth,
Oh mother of the three great gods,
Oh Abhirami who is panacea of the worlds ills,
What do I need else,
If without fail, I thee worship.
Worshippers thine are those,
Who make these fourteen worlds,
Build, move and destroy,
Oh Abhirami, who wears the kadamba flowers,
On her holy hair,
It is your grace,
That makes you accept,
These words foolish mine,
About thine holy feet,
And happy my mind is made.
Made you, this sinner pure,
Placed in me a melting heart,
Gave me thine lotus like feet,
As an ornament of my head,
Removed from my heart all the dirt,
By thine stream of loving grace,
Oh, beautiful one,
Which grace of thine shall I sing?
Singing with meaning thine friends do,
Oh mother, who is like a scented creeper,
You who merge in to thine devotee’s heart,
Who worship thee without break,
Is it not true?
That the reign without end, penance that gives peace,
And a place in the world of Shiva, they all will get.
Getting of those powers great from her,
The Parashakthi who gives such powers,
That power which leads to the knowledge of Shiva,
The salvation that sages who do penance get,
The seed for such salvation,
The wisdom that comes from such seed,
All these thou art, my goddess who is in my wisdom, even then.
Then you showered your mercy and made me thine,
Oh my mother, is it proper for you Goddess mine,
To say that you didn’t.
Whatever I do to you from now on,
Even I fall in the mid sea, my mother,
It is for you to decide,
To save me or not to save,
You who are one,
You who are several,
You who are invisible, Oh Goddess Uma.
Uma and her lord, who keeps her in his left,
Came to me as one,
And ordered me to love them without fail.
Now on, I tell you all,
There are no religions to think,
And more than my mother dear,
And the pretty sweet heart mine, them I desire.
Desire is the ocean, in which I am chained,
And would have been dragged by the Lord of Death,
Into the gory hell, to suffer forever,
But for thine graceful feet,
Kept by your will on my sinner’s head.
How shall I sing your grace,
Oh, my lord Siva’s consort,
Occupying his left, for your deed.
Deeds mine would lead me one day,
To make the God of death, call me and punish,.
And thou who art the beautiful young lass,
With firm pretty breasts, that attracts my lord,
Would say to me then, “fear not, oh my son”.
Then I will shout, “mother, oh my mother”,
And come to you with a running rush.
Rushing to you, your devotees come,
With a cry, ”you are our only protection, mother”
And then you give them, your own heavens to reside,
And would go and reside my mother Abhirami,
In the holy face of Brahma,
The heart of Vishnu wearing the garland of Kousthuba,
The left side of my Lord Shiva,
The beautiful lotus dripping honey,
The Sun with the harshest rays,
And in the pleasure giving moon.
Moon drenched perfumed feet thine,
You keep on the head of this poor devotee fine,
Though all the gods in all the heavens,
Beseech, beg and do penance great and get it not,
You who sleep on the ocean of milk,
Thou who are the eternal wealth.
Wealth you are that is great,
The pleasure you are that the wealth gives us all,
The trance you are that the pleasure leads,
And the clarity you are at the end of the trance,
But I am not able to see and understand,
Thine ever-shining grace that is bright,
Which removes the darkness of ignorance from me,
Oh great Goddess with a golden hand.
Hands thine hold the bow of sweetest cane,
And the arrows made of flowers,
Draped thou art with chains of lovely white pearls,
Tied you have in thine snake like hips,
The belt made of gems,
Oh Goddess who is with my lord,
Who wears the eight sides as robe,
You wear silks of coral red.
Coral red mouth of hers,
And pearl like teeth of hers,
That showers the ever-pretty smile,
Make our Lord weak in her love,
And so Worship of the Goddess with tiny hip that bends,
With her pretty heavy breasts,
Drives away your desire for heavens to rule.
Rule I can thine lotus like feet,
And to escape the God of death,
I can have sight of the edge of the eyes of yours,
And if the desire if I have,
For anything else other than these,
It is my defect and not thine,
Consort of the Lord,
Who burnt the three cities,
With a bow as big as mount Meru,
You on his left reside.
Resides in thine forehead a third eye,
Oh my mother , Abhirami,
All the Gods, to thine grace request and beg
And you can never be seen,
By the ignorant and the chaff,
Oh, mother Abhirami.
This desire in my mind to see you perhaps,
May be Result of my previous lives good deeds.
Good deeds we did, Oh mind,
And so the flower eyed one,
With her husband dear
Has come hither in this crowd,
Of them who are their devotees,
And her holy feet on my head place.
Placed in their neck those,
Pearl necklaces fine,
Keep thine towering pretty breasts,
Which are like the mountains high,
Attract and shake the heart of our God,
Oh pretty mother,
You who have an underbelly like the hooded snake,
Sweetest words to attract and conquer you have,
And wear Vedas as Anklets fine.
Anklets fine in thine tiny feet,
The Rope and Ankusa in thine pretty hands,
Those flowery arrows with thee,
And sweetest words fine,
Were all thine, Oh Mother Abhirami.
To kill the ogres of Tripura,
Who abused the lord in their crooked mind,
When he who is the colour of red,
Took the bow which is like a mountain high,
You on his left side lived.
Lived she as a consort to Sankara our Lord,
And also was she his mother holy,
And so she is the greatest goddess known,
Waste I will not this my life,
And never would I try,
Any other goddess to serve.
Serving not thine holy feet,
And worshipping not thee,
There were many in olden times,
Oh mother Abhirami.
Know not I,
Whether what I do is sin,
Or holy worship thine,
But Goddess mine,
In thine holy wisdom,
It is not proper for thee,
Not to pardon but hate.
Hateful devotees to pardon.
Is not new to you mother,
Even if they do unpardonable sins.
You who reside on the left,
Of the Lord with the black neck,
Even if you excuse me not,
I would your holy feet praise in this life.
Life to improve,
The method of the God, I found,
Which my tiny mind never could learn,
Which my chattering mouth never could describe.
Beyond the seven seas wide,
And those seven mountains high,
In between the sun and moon,
This glittering method shines.
Shining moon he has on his hill like tuft,
And on his strong shoulders lay thou,
Like a perfumed creeper tender,
Oh mother, Abhirami.
Even if for one second they think of thee,
Never will they get any time ever again,
Another skin, blood and flesh filled body,
Which is like a hut.
Hut like body, occupied by my soul,
Will one day be ordered by the God of death,
And will totter, worry and tremble,
Oh my mother Abhirami.
Then come before me with thine jingling bangled hand,
And say, “do not fear”.
She who is the musical note,
Fitted to the strings of the lyre, Oh my leader.
Leader great of ours,
You who is with four faces,
You who is the power of Narayana,
You who have five flower bows in her lotus hands,
You who gives pleasure as the soul of the world,
You who is black and called Syamala,
You who wears the serpent garlands,
You who is the daughter of Matanga,
Your holy feet is our only solace with out end.
Without end those ogres thought,
Those three holy cities were,
And removed forever mercy from their heart,
But them defeated the gods Shiva and Vishnu,
And those gods cry to you for protection, Oh Abhirami.
So thine devotees, Oh mother,
Will neither die or be born in this earth,
Under this sky.
Sky, horses gallant,
Palanquins to travel.
And costly necklaces of pearl,
Oh the consort of Lord Shiva,
Who has the crescent on his head,
For those devotees of your feet in their last birth,
Are prizes too small.
Small is thine waist, Goddess mine,
Fine is the red silk you wear,
Golden and firm are thine breasts,
Shining is the chain of pearls yours,
And pretty is thine glorious hair,
Adorned by jasmine chased by the bees.
Meditating on thy three eyed face,
When one is alone,
Is the greatest penance,
Don’t you think.
Don’t you think mother mine,
When one thinks deep,
The insult of others,
For claims false that one makes
Is a base thing to suffer.
And the feet of thee great mother,
Makes one never to reach,
To those who are base and ignorant.
And who have done no penance,
For you are like a beacon light.
Take one form and it is she,
Who makes her million devotees,
To be happy deep from within their mind.
Whether believe you or not,
In the truth which was, is and will be,
There is nothing else to be had,
To you from that power great.
Power great united in one,
But spread in various shapes.
Wherever you see,
That is she my mother,
Who is beyond all that you see,
But never goes she out,
From my mind, which is hers,
Knowledge of this they always had,
The Lord who slept on a banyan leaf then,
And Shiva my lord.
Lord mine gave you two measures of rice,
My mother, but thou,
Fed this entire world forever using those.
But you made me,
Who lives praising thee,
Using sweet and chaste Tamil thine,
To tell truth and lie to another,
At various times,
Is this thine mercy, Goddess who is red.
Red lotus is thy seat,
The lotus of my mind is thy seat,
Oh mother, who has breasts,
Like the lotus buds when you were young,
You, my mother who has lotus like eyes,
That shower mercy on us,
I have never seen anything else
Except thy face that is like a blooming lotus fine,
And thine hands with the reddish tint,
Which is my only refuge.
Refuge I never had,
Except the thought of thee.
But I request you, oh mother,
Who has the sweet cane as her bow,
And five flowers as arrows,
To be like the mother on earth,
Who has the softest feet,
Pardon and love,
But not to punish for mistakes great,
Their sons, whom they fed their milk.
Milky sweets are thine words, Oh mother,
Did you not find a better place to keep,
Thine feet as soft as snow,
Than the head of the God Vishnu,
Or the long locked head of Shiva,
Worshipped by all others,
Or those platforms of Om,
Those sing the four Vedas,
And chose to keep on the dirty smelling head of mine,
Which is like that of a dog.
Dog like, was I even then,
When thou saw me oh my mother,
And decided in your wish divine,
To rule my mind and made me,
Know thine divine grace.
How lucky I am,
Mother, who is the daughter of mountain great,
And red eyed Vishnu’s sister of gold.
Golden bow made of Meru,
Used he to destroy,
Those three cities great,
And killed he the elephant,
Send to kill him once,
And wore he its skin as his robe,
But made you a mark on his body strong,
Scars by thine embrace tight, Oh mother great,
Your bow of cane and arrows of flower,
Are forever in my mind, I tell.
Telling true tidings,
That you are the goddess of six different faiths,
Is like beating the hardest rock,
With a tender bamboo, Oh mother,
For followed they other faiths,
Knowing thee well, those fools,
Without any need.
Without any need,
I will not love,
Those small, small gods.
Never will I sing except your fame,
And never will I see anything except thee,
And thine glittering luster,
In this earth and on its sides,
And also in other worlds of this universe.
This universe, this skies,
And this glorious earth,
Saw the great God Shiva,
Burn the God of love Manmatha,
During his penance great.
To him you gave love,
And the wise god, with six heads,
And twelve hand, as his son,
Oh mother, Does it not show thine great strength.
Strength Know I not,
Me the insignificant one.
Except thine flower like feet,
I don’t have anything else, oh mother,
You who sit with the Lord,
Who has the golden bow.
These words mine written thus,
Even if they are bad and worse,
Since they are your names,
Become thine holy chant.
Chanting thy names, and praising thee,
Those who do not do even for a while,
Loose their position and ken,
And loose all they had in life,
And would all day beg all over the street,
In this wide, wide earth.
Earth, water, fire, wind and the sky,
And the taste, sight, sound smell and the feeling,
Ingrained are these, made as one in thine holy feet,
And those ones, who do penance of thine feet,
Will forever get all the riches great.
Riches great, they will get,
Knowledge fine they will get,
A mind that never tires, they will get,
Godly beauty they will get,
Friends who do not deceive they will get,
And all this and more they will get,
From the incense filled flower haired Abhirami’s,
Slanting sight from her beautiful eyes.
Eyes mine were filled by the pleasure at the sight of you,
Who was in the city in the forest of Kadamba,
And was playing the Veena kept in your hands,
With the sweetness of a soulful song.
Please say oh, mother,
Who was she of the green colour and darling of earth,
And who was she born as a tiny tot in the family of Madanga,
Is it not my goddess who is the greatest beauty.
Beauty of hers that is beyond compare,
Oh tired mind of mine.
When she who has the reddest feet
By walking in the way of Vedas, our books great,
When she who is like the tender climbing plant,
With the crescent in her head,
And when she who is youthful in colour green,
Is there, never will there be, problems for me.
Problems for me to disappear,
I worship thee oh mother,
And if I am again born in the world so cruel,
It is your problem not mine,
Oh goddess who has a hip like the lightning in the sky.
Because for his problem to solve when you were irate,
Our lord Shiva kept his head on thine feet,
Which is like the lotus that is red.
Red colour she kept,
Kadamba flowers she kept,
Five flower arrows she kept,
Bow made of sweet cane she kept,
The midnight time when Lord Bhairava,
Was worshipped she kept.
But for me who sings her praise,
Kept she her lotus like feet.
Also kept she her name,
As the beauty of Tripura,
And her two merciful eyes.
Three eyed Shiva, the four Vedas,
The Lord Vishnu and God Brahma,
Praise the holy feet of Abhirami.
If one thinks her holy feet,
AS his only our only begotten wealth,
Then he would be in the world of Indra,
And see the dances and songs from maidens fine,
In the shadow of the all wish giving tree,
And be there and forever live.
Live they will in the shadow of wish giving tree,
And will never be born,
To another mother again,
If they raise above the seas,
And above the fourteen worlds,
And body of mother with flowery hair, only think.
Thought of thee and thine grace,
Helped me stop the god of death in his way.
Oh you who is in the left side,
Of Lord Shiva, who wears the garland of iris,
Followed by flying bees for their scent,
Oh mother Bhairavi.
Bhairavi, Panchami, Pasangusa,
Panchabani, Kali, Mandali, Malini, Sooli, Varahi,
Chandi who takes the life of bad ones,
And greatly glittering Vairavi,
All these names the four Vedas,
Tell thine devotees to chant.
Chant they that thine breasts are like,
The ivory box and like the golden pot,
Applied with perfumed sandal paste,
Oh Abhirama Valli.
Thine necklace of pearl, ear studs of diamond,
Merciful eyes, coral mouth and pearl white teeth,
I have written,
Are the only companions for my dying eyes.
Eyes of Abhiramavalli has divine grace,
And I have the mind,
That worships her as the Vedas tell.
When that royal path I have,
Why should I only now sin,
And fall in the hell forever,
By the bad peoples company.
Company of thine devotees that you gave,
Trouble free life that you gave,
Entry thine into my mind fast,
From where you made me act,
And Appeared thou before me in thine true form,
As my eyes danced madly at thine sight,
All these are but,
Thine will and drama,
Oh, my beautiful Goddess.
Bow I will not before other Gods,
For they are only in thine employ,
Nor I will praise these gods in my mind.
Move I will not with people, who deceive,
But will never ever quarrel,
With those great ones,
Who do not say mine and thine,
I, Oh mother, with wisdom small,
For mine eyes are but thine light.
Light of thine glittering body,
Lights the entire universe without fail,
Oh, beauty who sits on lotus red,
Thought of thee in penance deep,
Makes my mind leap,
And drowns it in happiness great,
How can I forget ever your grace.
Graceful new flowers, they who shower,
At thine holy feet,
Day and night,
Would be worshipped by Gods,
And for sure,
The Iravatha, the elephant of gods,
The holy Ganges of the sky,
The powerful Vajarayudha of Indra,
Karpaga, the wish-giving tree,
Will they forever have.
Having all that she wishes fulfilled,
Clothed in red silk fine,
Glittering crowning glory on her head,
She never reaches the ones who deceive.
She who has narrow hips like thread,
She who is the left part of our Lord,
She who makes me never to be born again,
Should be worshipped by you,
So that no more birth you see.
Saw I, in all the sides,
And I saw her hands with the Pasangusa,
I saw those five arrows made of flower,
Followed by bees,
I saw the bow made of sweet cane,
I saw the Goddess Of Tripura,
Who puts an end to my sufferings great,
I saw her narrow hips,
I saw her covered breasts,
Applied with saffron,
And I saw her garland of pearls.
Pearl studded feet thine,
And graceful hands thine
Which are searched by Vishnu my God,
Which are searched by Brahma the creator,
And which are searched by Vedas that are holy,
Show them to me and save,
When the God of death,
Drives his three pronged spear at me,
Oh goddess great,
Who has milk, honey and sweet syrup like words.
Words and thoughts can never describe,
Thine holy form, mother mine,
But how come I see you in a simple form,
Oh Goddess, Who made Lord Shiva,
Who burnt the God of love with his sight,
Look at thee with love
And give thee half his side,
You are my forever refuge.
Refuge seeking I came to thee,
So I request thee mother,
Never ever compare me with thine devotees great,
And send me away from thee,
Who is the consort of He,
Who made Meru Mountain his bow,
And cut one head of Brahma,
To burn the city of Tripura,
And gave you his left to glorify.
Glorious lotus like you are,
And grant salvation to those,
Who keep their head,
on your holy feet,
Oh mother mine,
Do come with thine Lord,
In whose left side you are,
When I breath my last,
And give me boons so that I am not sad.
Sadness to prevent in me,
She entered the lotus of my mind,
So that none of the joy giving things,
Are required by me in this world from now on,
My mother Abhirami,
Who helped the Devas of Heaven get,
The nectar they got from the sea of milk,
She who is pretty and thin.
Thin as lightning your hips are,
Tender breasts for the Lord you have,
Oh, mother Abhirami,
For thine devotees great,
Who praise thee,
And the holy sages,
Who know the Vedas,
Thou grant their desire,
To sit on the white elephant of heaven,
And make them of happy mind.
Mind Of mine, like the molten gold,
Was shaped and made in to your slave,
By devotion to thine feet.
And where is the need,
For me to follow some one else.
Or for me to follow their path,
Oh Goddess mine,
The holy trinity ever praises thine smile.
Smile thee mother, who has the world,
When you hear,
That you were the tiny tot,
Born to the king of mountain great,
For really you are without birth and death.
And when they sing that thine eyes are like Doe,
And thine breasts are like sweet cane,
All they tell you are but lies,
For words mother mine,
Are of no use to describe thee.
Devotees thine come to thee, oh mother,
Not because they understand but because they desire.
Desire great thine devotees have,
And their eyes are full of happy tears,
Their body is thrilled thinking of thee,
Their mind is full of joy,
Their brain is dulled into that of a fool,
Their words don’t flow from their tongue,
Their look is that of mad, mad man
For they are in love with thee,
Oh, Goddess Abhirami,
Only thine path is good.
Good even if it comes,
Or bad even if it comes,
Is all the same for me,
For I do not know any thing that is mine.
Have I not given all that I have to thee,
Oh imperishable mount of virtue,
Oh sea of grace,
Oh Himalayas daughter who is pretty and tender.
Tender climber like she is,
Yamalavalli sitting in the lotus ,
That has opened petals, she is,
With nothing unholy in her she is,
Of the colour of green,
That words can never unfold, She is,
And peahen trained in all arts, she is,
And those who but worship her,
With devotion they can muster,
Would the seven worlds rule,
Like the Sun.
Sun and the moon,
Fire and Kubera the lord of Riches,
Indra the Lord of Devas,
Brahma, Siva and Vishnu,
Agasthya the sage,
Lord Muruga and Ganapathi,
And Kama, the God of love,
And many more that is beyond count,
Always worship thine feet,
My maiden fine.
When Shiva the great,
Took thine lotus like feet,
And kept it on his head,
Where went Pot of fire,
And Ganga the river, from his head.
You only enter the mind,
Of people who know the truth,
And not in theirs,
Who live on lies,
Oh nightingale fine.
Nightingale of the forest of Kadamba trees,
Peahen dancing on the Himalayas,
The sun shining over the skies,
The swan that sits on lotus pretty,
Thou were given to the Lord of Kailasa,
By Himalaya the king of mountains,
Oh pretty haired one.
One, whose breasts divine,
Are Fondled by the Lord of Kailasa,
Who wears the Garland of iris,
Emits great perfumes divine.
One who has shoulders like bamboo,
One who has the bow made of sugarcane,
One who has arrows made of flowers,
One has pearly white teeth,
One who has doe like eyes,
You never leave my mind forever.
Forever they suffer not in this life,
Who worship the mother of us all,
My mother Abhirami,
Who created the universe,
Who has the colour of flowers of pomegranate,
Who protects the entire world,
Who has with her the pasangusa,
And the bow made of sugarcane,
And who has three eyes.