আনন্দ লহরি

O Bhavānī — Brahmā, the lord of all beings, cannot praise you even with four faces; nor can the destroyer of Tripura (Śiva) with five; nor Ṣaṇmukha with six; nor Hari with a thousand. So how then can I praise you, O Tripura — you whose praises even the gods fail to exhaust?

Just as the sweetness of ghee, milk, raisins, and honey cannot be expressed in words — it remains only a matter for the tongue alone — so too your beauty, O Tripura Sundarī, cannot be described but only experienced.

Betel-leaf adorns your face; kohl-art adorns your eyes; saffron paste adorns the forehead; a pearl-creeper adorns the neck; a gleaming kāñcī-girdle and golden-threaded garments adorn your hips; camphor and sandalwood adorn your body. May your form, O mother, remain in my heart.

She whose breast-region shines with a garland of the Mandāra tree's blossoms, adorned with the sound of a ringing vīṇā; who is slightly bowed — the great Mātaṅgī — with graceful movement, whose eyes are as beautiful as a deer's — she who has accepted (absorbed into herself) Śiva — salutations to that goddess.

Adorned with gem-and-gold ornaments blazing like the newly risen sun — with a doe-eyed beautiful vision that has made Śiva her own — yellow as lightning, wearing a lustrous yellow garment, holding a parrot and a bouquet — she who illuminates the night with the light of the moon — salutations to Rājarājeśvarī.

Born of the Himalaya — with tender creeper-like hands — adorned with beautiful flowers — with locks twined with bees and pearls — who has made Śiva her place of residence — the very embodiment of all three worlds — [I meditate upon that goddess].

Others seek refuge in other creepers — honored with various qualities. But my mind moves thus: only Aparṇā (Pārvatī, the leafless one) is to be served — she who is a creeper with leaves, flowers, and blossoms that never fade, yielding all fruits to those who seek refuge in her.

O you whose lotus-feet are beautiful as Kubera's treasures — you are the orderer of all dharmas, the mother of all sacred teachings (āmnāya). You are the root of all wealth. You are the beginning of all desires. You are the foundation of liberation. Therefore — I bow to you.

Though my devotion to you is not great — my mind being restless — yet you, O Śrīmatī (Lakṣmī-goddess), should look upon me now with compassion. A cloud gives water — and yet a plant does not ask for it. [Similarly, your grace comes naturally without my deserving it.]

O one of good conduct — quickly grant your compassionate sidelong glance! It is not right for you to neglect me who have taken the vow of taking refuge. If the wish-fulfilling tree does not give what is wished — then why do people resort to it? What is its value then?

Placing great faith in your two lotus-feet, I have not taken refuge in any other deity here — yet if your heart is still indifferent to me, O Umā — then to whom, alas, should I go? Who is there for the refuge of the abandoned?

Just as iron that is in contact with [the philosopher's stone] immediately attains the status of gold — just as street-water becomes pure when it joins the flood of the Gaṅgā — so too, one extremely tainted by various sins, having attained your proximity, O Bhavānī, becomes pure.

There is no certainty that [desires] will be fulfilled from anyone other than you. You alone, O Āmnāya, are capable of granting even more than what is desired. Thus the ancient ones have spoken — and tradition itself shows this. Therefore I take refuge only in you, Bhavānī.

In a palace whose walls of crystals and gems reflect your glowing form with the moving crescent-moon on its top — [your form] is being worshipped by Viṣṇu (Mukunda), Brahmā, and Indra with joined palms. Thus — that half-form of yours with the crescent-moon — let it shine always in my heart.

Her dwelling is on Kailāsa. Brahmā, Indra, and others are engaged in singing her praises. The three worlds are her family. The assembly of Siddhas [stands with] joined palms. Maheśa stands in front with [his characteristic offerings]. What does this Bhavānī lack?

An old bull is the vehicle. Irregular food. The sky is the garment. Cremation ground is the playground. A mass of serpents is the ornament-arrangement. All this [pertaining to Śiva] exists in the world — yet Bhavānī chose him. What does this say about the power of a beautiful woman?

Paśupati — whose natural disposition is [the total dissolution of all universes] — sitting in the cremation grounds, smeared with sacred ash — held the hālāhala poison in his throat for the sake of all beings. Such is her husband. O daughter of the mountain — what else is [your glory] beyond this?

Having seen your incomparable beauty, O daughter of the mountain — the very Gaṅgā, whose body is made of water, was seized with such fear [of being compared unfavorably] that she became the white foam on the water — and from that time, her foam-drop at the corner of your face is said to be the dot of white on the dark night-sky.

O Bhagavatī — the wide unguent-water for your bath — mixed with sandalwood liquid, musk, saffron, fragrant substances, and flowers — was taken by Brahmā, who then departed eagerly, having used it to create the many-colored universe.

In the joyful spring — surrounded by flowering creepers — in a lotus-filled lake graced by beautiful geese — O you of beautiful yellow complexion — you were playing with your companions in the Malaya-mountain breeze — [thus the poet meditates on you].