śrīlalitā āryā dviśatī

I bow to the elephant-faced Lord Ganesha, closely embraced by His beloved consort seated on His left lap, who is crimson-red like saffron powder, and who wears the crescent moon—the lover of the night-lotus—as a crown upon His head.

Victorious is that Golden Mountain, Meru, whose cosmic form supports the entire wheel of the universe, and which resounds with the exquisite music of celestial maidens echoing through its golden bower-gardens.

We bow to the three peaks of that mountain, situated in the directions of Indra, Nirrti, and Vayu, which serve as the very foundations for the supreme realms of Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva, the Lord of Gauri.

In the center, I worship the supreme, magnificent peak rising four hundred yojanas high, which bathes the horizons in the enchanting, colorful splendor of its clustered gems.

There, I bow to the city of the Primordial Wisdom, Lalitha, fashioned by the divine architect Vishvakarma, spanning four hundred yojanas in circumference and beautiful with its various majestic ramparts.

I seek refuge in the first rampart made of solid iron, which encircles the city with a vast circumference of sixteen hundred yojanas.

Beyond that, at a distance of seven yojanas, may the second rampart, crafted from resonant bell-metal and casting wavy, shimmering shadows, bestow supreme joy upon me.

We worship the garden situated in the space between these two walls, beautifully adorned by wild, humming bees and filled with the gentle, fragrant flow of the southern breeze.

May Mahakala dwell in my mind, seated there embracing Bhadrakali who is dark as a sapphire, his eyes rolling in divine intoxication from drinking sweet honey.

May the third rampart, situated seven yojanas beyond the second and fashioned of pure copper, bestow auspiciousness upon us as long as the moon and stars endure.

In the space between these two walls, I contemplate the grove of wish-fulfilling Kalpa trees, adorned with gem-like leaves, branches, and blossoms, their basins muddy with overflowing nectar.

There, may the first season, Spring, holding his flower-arrows and embraced by the youthful maidens Madhushri and Madhavashri whose eyes are restless like chakora birds, protect me forever.

Bow down to the fourth rampart situated beyond that, whose towering peaks scale the path of the heavens, made of lead and shining pure like the white light of the moon.

May our minds ever dwell in the Santana garden situated between these two walls, enchanting with the sweet, gentle cooing of simple bees and doves.

There, may the Summer season, though fierce with the blazing sun, yet having his heart softened by devotion to the feet of the Empress Lalitha, accompanied by the deities of Jyeshtha and Ashadha, bestow upon us glory lasting until the end of the eon.

On its northern boundary, may the fifth rampart, forged of shining brass and bearing golden banners fluttering atop its lofty peaks, manifest for us supreme well-being and prosperity.

In the space between these two ramparts, may the grove of divine sandalwood trees, where cuckoos burst into their sweet fifth note amidst fresh green sprouts, utterly eradicate our sorrows from their very roots.

There, surrounded on all sides by youthful maidens led by the beauty of the monsoon months, may the Rainy Season, resounding with the thunderous laughter of lightning, fulfill our every heart's desire.

At a distance of forty-nine yojanas to its north, may the glorious sixth rampart, crafted from the five sacred alloys, bestow upon us all-encompassing auspiciousness.

In the midst of these two, may my mind find its joyful play in the Mandara grove, which is ever-fragrant with the scent of blossoming celestial flowers.

In that grove, may the Autumn Season, ever accompanied by the youthful maidens of the harvest months, triumphantly worship the Divine Mother with flowers overflowing with rich fragrance.

At a distance of seven yojanas from there, may the seventh rampart, fashioned of pure silver with its multitude of brilliantly shining peaks, grant us eternal welfare.

Between those two, may the cool and beautiful Parijata grove, whose sky-reaching branches resound with the sweet warbling of cuckoos, endlessly shower us with prosperity.

Sporting in that grove with his beloveds, the twin beauties of the winter months, may the Early Winter Season, the close ally of the flower-arrowed God of Love, bring us an abundance of golden wealth.

To its north, may the great eighth rampart, built of blocks of heated gold and glowing with the crimson rays of a blazing fire, grant us a long and healthy life.

In the space between these two, I contemplate the Kadamba forest grove, where the gentle breeze is heavy and intoxicated with the rich fragrance of unfolding flower buds.

In that grove, may the Late Winter Season of exceedingly cool form, seated with the twin maidens of the freezing months and cooling all the horizons, constantly bring peace and auspiciousness to me.

In that Kadamba grove, I seek refuge in the beautiful, seven-walled sanctuary of Mantrini, which is filled with the sweet fragrance of honey mingled with the scent of blossoming flowers.

In that spacious mansion, with its shimmering steps crafted of molten gold, upon a magnificent throne studded with precious gems inside the glorious hall of rubies...

...I contemplate the supreme Ruler of the sixty-eight letters, eternally seated upon the sacred wheel adorned with the central point, the triangles, the petals of eight, sixteen, and other sacred divisions, and the outer boundary lines.

I bow to Her, whose dark complexion shines like the Tapincha flower, whose ears are adorned with ornaments crafted from palm leaves, whose mouth is filled with betel-chew, and whose gentle smile softly gleams upon Her coppery, bimba-red lips.

Her body is richly anointed with fragrant saffron paste, and She wears the young crescent moon—the life-giver of the blue water-lily—as Her crown; Her feet are as crimson as the red lotus, and Her soft, sweet speech rivals the melodious warbling of the cuckoo.

With locks of hair gently cascading over Her left side, adorned with garlands of wild flowers and fresh Kadamba blossoms, She shines with a dangling pearl pendant gracing Her lovely forehead, which is beautifully marked with a colorful tilaka.

She reveals the profound essence of all the Vedas through the sweet, soft chirping of the young parrot held in Her hand, Her eyes half-closed in sheer ecstasy as She plays the lute resting against Her left breast.

I bow to the primordial Mother of Music, clad in pale rose-red silk, whose sidelong glances are fragrant with the awakening of the primal sentiment of love, and who is the very essence of the sacred Vedas distilled into a single, sweet pill.

To the north of that golden wall stands the ninth rampart, made entirely of topaz, glowing with the warm hue of fresh saffron; may it completely extinguish all my burning miseries and afflictions.

We bow to the intermediate lands between these two walls, paved with fresh topaz, which are densely crowded with realized Siddhas who are tirelessly and sleeplessly absorbed in deep meditation upon the Supreme Queen of the Throne.

To the north of that wall lies the tenth rampart, made of brilliant rubies, glowing crimson like the radiant beams of a freshly blossomed hibiscus; may it utterly destroy all my defeats and humiliations.

Day and night, I contemplate upon the hosts of celestial Charanas dwelling in the space between these walls, who are free from all mental doubts and conflicts, and are deeply devoted to the lotus feet of the Supreme Queen of the Chakra.

At a distance of ten yojanas from there, may that lofty rampart built of hessonite gems, adorned with flags fluttering freely in the wind, protect me forever.

I bow to the lotus feet of Goddess Sankarshani, who is eternally worshipped in the land between the two ramparts by various youthful Vatukas and hosts of mystical Yoginis.

At a distance of twelve yojanas from there, may that magnificent rampart constructed from heaps of brilliant diamonds, adorned with towering gateways, fulfill all my deepest desires.

May the celestial nymphs like Rambha and others, who dwell in the space between these two walls, savoring the sweet taste of divine nectar, bestow upon us supreme and boundless joy.

Eternally victorious is the river named Vajra flowing there, whose beauty is enriched by the sweet, melodious warbling of flocks of swans dancing upon her playful, shimmering waves.

On her beautiful banks reigns supreme Goddess Vajreshi, richly adorned with diamond ornaments; Her glorious deeds are praised by the gods led by Indra, whom She pleased by bestowing the mighty thunderbolt.

May the northern rampart of that palace, fashioned from precious lapis lazuli, whose clustered, blossoming splendor fills the innermost recesses of the sky, bestow pristine purity upon my mind.

Between Her two feet, we contemplate the great serpents like Karkotaka, and the demons led by Bali, all of whose hearts are anchored in devotion, clinging to the refuge of the Mother's lotus feet.

May the rampart of sapphire, towering high into the celestial skies at a distance of forty-nine yojanas, abundantly bestow upon me a pure, clear, and luminous wisdom.

In the middle ground between these two, we bow again and again to the lakes shimmering like great blue sapphires, and to the ruling lords of the realm, accompanied by their slender-waisted consorts.

Above that, at a distance of a swift yojana, stands the rampart built entirely of pearls, whitening the horizons with its radiant luster; may it bring us supreme delight again and again.

In the eastern quarter, poised between the two enclosures, may the glorious Purandara, mounted upon his majestic elephant Airavata, the lord of Abhramu, ceaselessly bestow upon us his divine grace and splendor.

In that corner, may the Bearer of Oblations, the sacred Fire, who holds a fan, a sacrificial ladle, a javelin, a vessel, a spoon, food, and a spear, and who is accompanied by his consorts Svaha and Svadha, grant me deep and lasting happiness.

May the Lord of Justice, who dwells in the southern quarter, wielding his staff of retribution, whose form is dark as a rain-bearing cloud, and who is a devout worshipper of the lotus feet of Goddess Tripura, utterly dispel the entire multitude of my sins.

In the western direction of that very same abode, may the guardian deity, dark with the radiant splendor of a fully blossomed blue lotus, wielding a shield, a sword, and a staff, dispel all my sorrows.

To the north of that celestial abode, may Varuna, the white-limbed Lord of the Waters, who is mounted upon a magnificent giant fish and holds the weapon of the noose in his hand, utterly shatter all the binding nets of my worldly attachments.

In that north-western corner, I repeatedly bow to Vayu, who rides upon a noble antelope, and also to the great yogis led by Goraksha, in whom the blossom of the knowledge of Ultimate Truth has begun to unfold.

I contemplate the three youthful maidens, foremost among whom is Ida, who make their abode within that life-breath; their eyes roll in sweet intoxication, enraptured by drinking the freshly distilled celestial wine of divine nectar.

In the eastern region of that sacred realm, I meditate upon Kubera, the lord of the divine treasures, and the hosts of Yakshas led by Manibhadra, all of whom find their sole refuge at the lotus feet of the Divine Mother.

On the eastern boundary of that very realm, in the city adorned with golden towers, I meditate upon the consort of Katyayani, whose crest is graced by the cool crescent of the moon.

I worship the Rudras who dwell within the sixteen-fold ramparts of that supreme city, their locks adorned with the young crescent moon; those celebrated in the sacred hymns of the Rudradhyaya, ever accompanied by their divine consorts, the Rudranis.

At a distance of forty-nine yojanas from there, may the rampart built of emeralds, dark-green like fresh young grass, nourish and bestow upon us unwavering wealth and eternal prosperity.

In the space between the two enclosures, in a region dark-green with clusters of emeralds, I contemplate the forest of golden palmyra trees, whose branches are laden with vessels of celestial wine.

Right there, may the beautiful emerald palace of Dandanatha, spacious like the mansion of Mantrini and adorned with fluttering banners, grant us long life.

In that mansion, within a hundred-pillared pavilion constructed of emeralds, upon a throne of pure gold, in the center of the pericarp of a golden lotus...

...within the chakra composed of a dot, a triangle, a circle, a hexagon, and two outer circles, she who glides like a royal swan in the lotus of the supreme mantra of one hundred and ten syllables...

She who has the face of a boar, eyes like lotuses, and locks adorned by the crescent moon; who shines with the luster of molten gold, her hips draped in a garment red as the twilight sky.

Her hands gleam with the plough, pestle, conch, discus, goad, noose, and the gestures of granting boons and fearlessness; her compassion overflows all bounds, and her full bosom is anointed with fragrant saffron paste.

Exceedingly far from the wicked, beautiful with a waist so slender its existence is a mere rumor, the bestower of auspiciousness on the distressed—may Goddess Vartali grant all our cherished desires.

Bow down to the goddesses surrounding her, led by Svapneshi, Unmatta-Bhairavi, and Jambhini, as well as the hosts of Bhairavas headed by Hetuka.

At a distance of the previously mentioned forty-nine yojanas, may the coral rampart, pale red like the rays of the rising sun and featuring wide, majestic gateways, utterly dispel the affliction of my delusion.

In the intermediate space between the two enclosures, which shines resplendently day and night, I praise Lord Brahma seated on his lotus, glowing with the brilliant hue of fresh vermilion.

At a distance of forty-nine yojanas from that enclosure, may the rampart constructed of diverse precious gems, featuring massive, towering gateways, fulfill all my deepest desires.

In the inner courtyard between these two, in a region overflowing with dense and unbroken splendor, I constantly contemplate within my heart the great pavilion known as the Manikya Mandapa.

Seated there, serene and radiant like the tender shoots of a young Tamala tree, his cheeks illuminated by the brilliant rays emanating from the earrings dangling from his ears...

...with crimson lips, a pure and gentle smile, a moon-like face overflowing with ever-increasing compassion, and beautiful with the crescent moon on his forehead adorned with a charming mark of musk.

Whose amorous desires are awakened by the glances from the corners of Her eyes, which resemble the petals of a lotus; and whose chest is richly smeared with the musk and saffron paste from the firm breasts of the Goddess.

Whose dark tresses carry the exquisite fragrance of Champaka blossoms, and whose golden silken robe rivals the brilliant flash of lightning; who is adorned with the Shrivatsa mark and the Kaustubha gem, and whose lotus feet are supremely adept and ever-intent on protecting those who seek Her refuge.

I take refuge in Mukunda, the very root of supreme bliss, whose lotus hands shine with the splendor of the conch and the Sudarshana discus; who wears a forest garland swaying gently around His neck, and who bestowed the ultimate fruit of liberation upon Mucukunda.

May that rampart, rising in the northern expanse of the enclosure, studded with a multitude of diverse gems, and whose lofty peaks kiss the very disc of the moon, the lord of stars, bestow upon us an utterly pure and spotless intellect.

Bow down to that inner courtyard nestled between the two ramparts, overflowing with a vast treasure of brilliant gems, and renowned throughout the universe as the glorious Thousand-Pillared Hall.

There we bow to Lord Ishana, the beloved companion of Bhavani, who adorns His crown with the crescent moon; and we salute Bhringi, Nandi, and His other attendants, who are ever absorbed in the loving contemplation of the supreme Heroine of Divine Love.

At a distance of Vayu-yojanas from that, I adore the rampart composed of Mind, and the pristine intermediate space between them, luminous with the sprouting rays of brilliant gems.

In that very place lies the pond of nectar, its twin shores gently caressed by trembling, playful ripples, where clusters of golden lotuses are graced by sweet-cooing swans adorned with pearls.

Whose horizons are filled with the awakening music of sapphire-hued female bees, and who is exquisitely beautiful with the playful, rhythmic dance of flocks of golden-bodied water-fowls.

I meditate upon Her, the very embodiment of nectar, whose form is painted rosy by the collective splendor of ruby-like red lotus buds, and who diffuses the abundant, unfolding fragrance of blooming white night-lotuses.

Sporting upon the deck of a jeweled boat in the midst of that shimmering lake, Her limbs glow with the vermilion-red hue of dawn, adorned with the tender crescent of the cool-rayed moon as Her ear-ornament.

Whose face is like the radiant orb of the full moon, upon whose lips, red as tender sprouts, a gentle smile softly gleams; she who possesses dark, curling tresses and eyes as tender as a young fawn's, and whose cheeks are illumined by the brilliant reflection of her swinging earrings.

I bow to Goddess Tara, radiant with the proud bloom of youth, who is bathed from all sides with water poured from golden horns held in the hands of the attendant Shaktis residing in nearby boats.

At the distance of the leagues recounted before, I bow to the rampart fashioned of pure Intellect, and to the beautiful intermediate courtyard between them, whose ground is richly paved with radiant gold.

Within that sacred abode, I contemplate the pond of supreme bliss—a treasure-house of intoxicating divine nectar—whose banks are beautifully adorned with flights of steps crafted from clusters of radiant red rubies.

Within my heart, I meditate upon the Goddess Varuni, also known as Amriteshi, who dwells in the center of the ruby boat, her cheeks beautifully flushed with the sweet intoxication of divine bliss.

May the beautiful goddesses standing before Her, proud of their exquisite grace and holding golden oars in their hands, bestow upon us an increase of life and longevity.

At a distance of one league from there, I bow to the towering rampart of Egoism (Ahamkara); and I salute the intermediate space between them, where the gentle breezes from the Malaya mountains softly blow.

There we praise the sacred pond of Vimarsa (Self-reflection), which is the very embodiment of the nectar of Sushumna, its banks and forest groves filled with the tumultuous music of waves overflowing their bounds.

Right there in the midst of the waters, I behold Her who possesses the dark, glossy splendor of a cluster of Tamala leaves, adorned in a dark-blue bodice, Her face stealing the beauty of the reflection of the dark moon.

Her curved, smooth eyebrows possess the playful charm of the twin-arrowed bow of Kama, Her face is graced with a gentle smile, and Her cheeks are adorned with gem-studded earrings.

We constantly hold in our hearts Goddess Kurukulla, who resides in the ruby boat, Her waist gently bending under the weight of Her breasts that rival the great mountains, Her entire body anointed with fragrant saffron.

To the north of that rampart, I take refuge in the radiant wall made of the Sun; and I contemplate the vast space between them, where the intense heat of the solar rays finds peaceful rest.

Seated there upon a ruby pedestal within a lotus of golden pericarp, clad in crimson garments and adorned with garlands of unfading blossoms...

...sporting with the shadow-play of the illuminating power of Goddess Chakshushmati, and beautiful with a crown of rubies—I contemplate Martanda Bhairava within my heart.

To the north of that, I praise the rampart of the Moon, white as the snowy peaks of the Himalayas, and the intermediate space between them, filled with exceedingly cool breezes and overflowing with pure moonlight.

There, shining resplendent, its surroundings adorned by clusters of stars, I contemplate within my heart the Moon, white as a jasmine flower, the tender sprout of nectarine light.

To the north of that, I praise the rampart of Shringara (Love), resplendent with lofty peaks, and in the intermediate space between them, the celebrated moat of Shringara.

There, I worship Madana, the lord of the moat, accompanied by the deities of love who stand in gem-studded boats, holding oars of pure gold in their hands.

To the north of that supreme rampart of Shringara, may the great mansion built of wish-fulfilling Chintamani gems, adored by all the gods, completely dispel all my worries and anxieties.

Between the Mansion of Gems and the ramparts, we contemplate the Lotus Forest, adorned with golden-hued leaves as vast as ten palmyra trees, and stalks rising a yojana high into the heavens.

Abounding with soft filaments measuring five palmyra trees in size, and crowded with swarms of bees drawn to the continuously flowing streams of sweet, dripping nectar.

Golden-hued with the pollen scattered by the playful gusts of the gentle sandalwood breeze, and made enchanting by the overflowing, sweet warbling of flocks of royal swans.

We worship that Lotus Forest, whose borders are dense with surging waves of fragrance; and may the divine Lord Agni, who holds the Devi's Arghya vessel in the east, endowed with ten kalas, circular in form and rising a krosha high, protect us forever.

There, serving as the base for the Devi's vessel, may the glorious Sun, endowed with twelve kalas, completely shatter the dense darkness of my inner being.

Within that vessel of the Sun, may the nectar-like Arghya, rippling with fragrance and consisting of the Moon's nectarine digits, intensify and solidify my boundless, supreme bliss.

Sporting all around in that nectar, seated in various gem-studded boats, may the sixteen digits of the nectar-rayed Moon constantly deliver me from all sorrow.

Sporting in that very place, may all the kalas of the causal deities led by Brahma—who embody the cosmic acts of creation, preservation, and dissolution—pacify all my afflictions.

In the southern, western, and northern directions of the Gem Mansion—ruled by Yama, Varuna, and Kubera—I continuously contemplate those sacred Arghya vessels; may they grant me longevity.

In front of the place of the Arghya vessel, may the abodes of Vishnu, Brahma, and Shiva, which illuminate the entire universe with their brilliant splendor, bestow eternal happiness upon us.

In the south-east corner of the mansion, I constantly bow to the sacred fire-pit of Agni, and to the Fire residing therein, crowned with a mass of flickering flames, who is the progenitor of the Divine Mother.

In the south-west direction, I worship the divine chariot of the form of Sri Chakra, rising a hundred yojanas high, and adorned with nine magnificent tiers glittering with precious gems.

In that very direction, we fashion in our minds another chariot of Bhavani, embraced by a succession of golden banners and crowned with a crest of brilliant gems.

In the north-west corner of the mansion, may the magnificent chariot of the Prime Minister Shyamala, who is adored by all creation, adorned with various fluttering banners, bestow supreme joy upon us.

In the north-east direction of the Gem Mansion, we constantly enshrine in our hearts the supreme chariot of the boar-faced Goddess Varahi, beautifully encased in a network of radiant spokes.

May all the deities residing around the abode of the Goddess, who are the very embodiments of the sacred mantras and form the garland of Her divine rays, bestow auspiciousness upon us.

I contemplate forever in my heart upon Matangi and Varahi, who dwell on either side of the eastern gateway of Bhavani's gem-studded mansion.

May the sacred ground of the Chintamani mansion triumph, spanning two yojanas in extent with walls a krosha thick, adorned with four grand gateways made of the holy Vedas.

At every gateway of Her abode, may the divine goddesses of Redness and Siddhis, gathered in clusters and glowing with the brilliance of the rising sun, bestow upon us abundant and lasting glory.

Within the gem-studded mansion, upon the magnificent jeweled altar, I praise the Bindu-chakra, the supreme point of light, seated high above all the sacred pedestals.

May the mystical powers, beginning with Anima, who reside on the outermost boundary-board of all the chakras and embody the very light of the Goddess, protect me.

Above the tier of the Anima-siddhis, may the divine Mothers led by Brahmi, whose crowns are adorned with the crescent moon, abundantly nourish our well-being.

Upon the jeweled tier above, may the ten Mudra deities led by Sankshobhini, bearing the heavy bosom of youth, completely dispel all our delusions.

In the vast Trailokyamohana Chakra, comprised of these three tiers, may the deities known as the Prakata Yoginis shine, along with their supreme creator, the divine Goddess Tripura.

Above that, in the spacious realm, I contemplate the goddesses led by Kamakarshini, with their tremulous eyes, the brilliant luster of fresh red lotuses, and the crescent moon adorning their locks.

In this Sarvasaparipuraka Chakra, may the Goddess Tripureshi, adored by the secret Gupta Yoginis and adorned with a gleaming necklace of gems, destroy all my sins.

Upon the jeweled pedestal above, I meditate on the goddesses led by Anangakusuma, glowing with the crimson hue of copper lotus petals and clad in elegant bodices.

In this Sarvasankshobhana Chakra, may Sri Tripurasundari Herself, the guardian of the deeply secret Guptatara Yoginis, protect me with Her glance moist with tender compassion.

Within my heart, I contemplate those Shaktis led by Sankshobhini, residing in the circle above, with their swaying dark tresses and intoxicated with the bloom of youth.

In this Sarvasaubhagyadayaka Chakra, may the ruling deity Tripuravasini triumph! And may all the Shaktis known as the Sampradaya Yoginis bring us eternal delight.

Above their gem-studded pedestal, within that vast circle extending four cubits wide, I contemplate the divine Shaktis headed by Sarvasiddhiprada, who have made this sacred space their eternal abode.

In this wheel known as Sarvarthasadhaka, may the goddess Tripura Sri, the bestower of all fruits, who is adored by the Uttirna Yoginis, graciously bestow upon me ultimate well-being.

Above their abode, upon the higher platform, may all the goddesses beginning with Sarvajna, exquisitely beautiful in their safflower-red garments, bring me enduring glory.

Within this wheel named Sarvarakshakara, I meditate in my heart upon the goddess Sri Tripuramalini, adored by all creation, who is surrounded by the secret Nigarbha Yoginis.

Above the abode of the Sarvajna deities, in the vast wheel, I bow to the Shaktis headed by Vasini, who dwell there, radiant with the brilliant luster of vermilion powder.

In this sacred chakra known as Sarvarogahara, the destroyer of all maladies, I bow to the accomplished Goddess Tripurasiddha, who is eternally adored by the secret-named Shaktis, the keepers of the mystic wisdom.

Upon the grand altar rising twenty cubits high, above the abode of the Vasini deities, may the weapons and missiles of the Primordial Couple utterly subdue and silence the entire host of our adversaries.

In the circle above the armory, resplendent with closely set sapphires, I contemplate upon the Goddesses led by Kameshvari, who are universally revered by all creation.

In this chakra named Sarvasiddhiprada, may Mother Tripuramba, the bestower of all fruits, protect us eternally—She who is served by the secret Yoginis of the transcendent and immanent realms.

In the circle above the abode of Kameshvari, victorious are the four Gurus, the Lords of the Yugas, beginning with Mitresha, who possess the ultimate knowledge of the diverse lineages of sacred mantras.

Above the sublime abode of the Lord, upon a throne resplendent with a dense array of diverse gems, may the eternal Nitya deities, led by Kameshvari—who are the very embodiments of the sacred lunar days—graciously bestow upon us supreme joy.

Upon the altar fashioned from a multitude of flawless gems, high above the abode of the Nityas, may the Goddesses of the Six Limbs, with their tremulous eyes, bring about our well-being.

Above those celestial chambers, in the central Bindu known as Sarvanandamaya, I bow to the divine couch fashioned from the five Brahmas, resplendent and studded with a multitude of radiant gems.

May the dark-hued curtain of Maya, which hangs suspended all around the gem-studded throne, held fast by binding cords, banish all my sins.

May the canopy suspended above Her royal couch—laden with drooping garlands of intoxicating Madani and Punnaga blossoms, and radiant with the brilliant scarlet hue of velvet-bugs—ceaselessly dispel all our lethargy and spiritual sloth.

We adore the four legs of the divine couch, glowing with the rich hues of the bimba fruit, a dark rain-cloud, the cool moon, and radiant gold; embodying Brahma, Hari, Rudra, and Ishvara, they stand at the cardinal corners of Fire, Nirruti, Wind, and Ishana.

I bow to the plank of the couch, which is Sadashiva himself, radiant with the crimson glow of vermilion dust, and to the jeweled staircase that ascends gracefully to it, starting from the sacred abodes of the Angeshi goddesses.

May the bed of softest swan's down, arranged upon the couch, protect us forevermore—adorned with silk pillows, four side-cushions, and spread with a beautiful rose-colored coverlet.

Upon that bed resides the Divine, eternally served by the splendor of youth, casting a beautiful, soft glow like the mass of rays emanating from fully blossomed red lotuses still on their stalks.

Clad in garments red as vermilion, with a crown kissed by the crescent moon, beautiful with a saffron tilaka on the forehead, adorned with lovely curly locks, and possessing a smile that gently mocks the beauty of the young crescent moon.

We contemplate Him whose face is the radiant orb of the full moon, whose three eyes are like fully blossomed lotuses, and whose tremulous, wave-like side-glances embody the very essence of the sacred tradition of the darting shaphara fish.

Whose full cheeks are bathed in the surging waves of luster emanating from His gem-studded earrings, and whose coral-red lips diffuse a gentle, youthful smile of playful grace.

Who is adorned with a crown of fragrant blossoms, beautiful with a pair of dark, vine-like eyebrows, and the natural fragrance of whose lotus-face is doubled by the aromatic waves of the betel-roll He chews.

Whose tender lotus-hands shine as they hold the noose, the goad, the sugarcane bow, and the flower-arrows, and whose body is anointed with thick saffron paste—we constantly enshrine that Kameshwara in our hearts.

And we meditate on Her, seated upon His lap, glowing with the brilliant hue of a freshly blossomed Kadamba flower, adorned with the crescent moon upon Her crown, and bearing thick vermilion in the parting of Her hair.

I meditate on Her whose forehead shines with a sacred mark of saffron, whose curved eyebrows form a beautiful pair, whose eyes resemble the soft petals of a lotus, and whose nose is adorned with a dancing pearl ornament.

Her face is illumined by a budding, gentle smile, and the crimson splendor of Her lower lip surpasses the redness of the bimba fruit; Her golden earrings are beautifully reflected on Her cheeks, which are adorned with ornamental designs of musk.

Exquisitely beautiful is Her lotus-face, filled with the fragrance of betel-rolls rich in camphor, while a necklace of pure, radiant pearls drapes elegantly over Her neck, which rivals the smooth contour of a conch shell.

Her two arms, tender as a garland of white water-lilies, gleam with gem-studded armlets, while a splendid array of golden bangles and bracelets adorns the wrists of Her lotus-like hands.

In Her four hands shine the noose, the goad, the sugarcane bow, and the arrows of flowers; Her high, swelling breasts, overflowing with beauty, are covered by a gem-encrusted bodice anointed with saffron paste.

I meditate on Her whose waist is so slender it rivals the atom, whose line of fine body hair resembles the dark beauty of a rain cloud, and whose voluptuous hips are bathed in the crimson rays of her ruby-studded girdle.

Whose thighs are shapely like the trunk of a young elephant, whose calves surpass the victorious quiver of Kama, whose arches outshine the smooth curve of a tortoise shell, and whose beautiful feet possess the tender, rosy glow of fresh sprouts.

Whose lotus feet are illumined by the radiant gems in the crowns of Brahma and Vishnu as they bow, whose compassion is boundless and supreme, and who nourishes the God of Love with the tremulous grace of Her side-glances.

I constantly contemplate within my heart that Supreme Beauty, who is the foundation of the primordial bliss of love, the tender bud on the creeper of the eternal Vedas, and the Mother of all existence from Brahma down to the tiniest insect.

Who on this earth is capable enough to praise that Supreme Reality who dwells on the lap of Shiva? May She, the ultimate object of my adoration, manifest before me through the power of my long-accumulated merits.

May that indescribable, divine effulgence appear before me, holding the sugarcane bow, seated upon the lofty couch of Paramashiva's lap, and realized through the commanding revelations of the Vedas.

May that ineffable light—bearing a bow laden with sweetness, wielding noble arrows that drip with nectar, and adorned with the crescent moon upon Her crown—lead us to ultimate liberation.

May that divine splendor—holding a mighty sugarcane bow, possessing a waist so slender it is beyond perception, endowed with three eyes, and richly cherished by the love of Shiva—destroy all that is harmful to my well-being.

May that eternal, crimson-hued light—whose side-glances rival the dark luster of honeybees, who is the lofty peak of love's sentiment, and who is intimately united with the body of Shiva—bestow upon me uninterrupted and everlasting auspiciousness.

May that indescribable essence—whose insteps surpass the smooth curve of a tortoise, overflowing with profound compassion, whose radiant form eclipses the luster of gold, and who is the very secret heart of Shiva—playfully fashion supreme bliss and peace for me.

May that indescribable, supreme Effulgence manifest in my heart—She whose dark, curly locks of hair possess a deep blackness that surpasses a swarm of bees, who wears a radiant jeweled girdle, whose hips are broad and beautiful like a sandy riverbank, and who delights in the playful sport of the poison in Shiva's throat.

May that indescribable, playful Divine Grace shine resplendently within my heart—She whose forehead is adorned with a vermilion tilaka, whose fine silk garments glow with the rosy hue of rubies, and who stands as the shore to the boundless ocean of compassion.

May those indescribable maidens reign supreme—they whose braided tresses bear the dark, lustrous splendor of black bees, whose curvaceous hips put to shame the vast expanses of sandy riverbanks, who hold sugarcane in their hands, and who stand as intimate witnesses to the amorous play of Shiva, the enemy of Kama.

May those indescribable, divine splendors, radiant with the luster of garments of molten gold, whose sweet words surpass the sweetness of grapes, and which delight the heart of Shiva, the skull-bearer, dispel all my grief.

Within my heart, I contemplate that supreme effulgence seated upon the lap of Shiva—she of dark tresses and long, expansive eyes, holding the arrows of flowers, overflowing its banks with the melting moisture of compassion, the very presiding deity of the primordial sentiment of love.

I meditate upon that indescribable, primordial Wisdom seated on the lap of Kameshvara, whose neck-deep ocean of compassion overflows with the rippling, sidelong glances of Her eyes that reach up to Her ears.

I bow to the inner queen of the moon-crested Lord, whose moon-like face is adorned with a pair of eyes that eclipse the beauty of the lotus, and who is the sacred sanctuary where the sprouts of the Vedic hymns flourish.

May my mind embrace that indescribable, playful divinity, whose crimson glow mocks the splendor of a cluster of ripe bimba fruits, whose waist is as subtle as the ether, whose neck is like a conch, and whose breasts are like rain-bearing clouds.

Within my heart, I contemplate that indescribable Being of ravishing beauty, adorned with Kadamba blossoms, whose exquisite attire, glowing with the golden luster of Champaka flowers, illuminates and beautifies the very horizons.

I meditate upon that indescribable, ultimate Truth of the Vedas, the sacred inner consort of the trident-bearing Lord, whose armor of light envelops the entire universe, putting to shame the brilliant flash of lightning.

I contemplate that indescribable, supreme life-breath of Shiva, glowing with the rosy hue of the rising sun, adorned with the tender crescent moon upon Her crown, and holding the sugarcane bow in Her hand.

My mind is utterly captivated and perfumed by an indescribable divine presence, whose hips are adorned with a glittering girdle, who shines with the sugarcane bow that is the very life of the tongue, and whose flower-arrows bestow life upon the sense of smell.

My mind is filled to the brim with an indescribable, radiant splendor, whose eyes rival the beauty of the lotus, whose form is like a slender streak of lightning, and whose face is illumined by a shining nose-gem.

We are indeed cured of all afflictions by that indescribable supreme consciousness, who is draped in garments of fresh lac-red, who moves with the majestic gait of an elephant, who is overflowing with compassion, and who bears the crescent moon upon Her crest.

Enough, indeed, with other self-proclaimed deities in this world, who lack the flower-arrows, who are not radiant red like the bimba fruit, who do not wield the sugarcane bow, and who do not wear the crescent moon upon their crown!

My heart is armored by those wondrous, playful forms of the Divine Mother, whose eyes resemble blue lotuses, whose heavy breasts are kinsmen to the peaks of the great mountains, and whose side-glances overflow with compassion.

Salutations to that supreme effulgence who is easily attained by those who bow to Her, salutations to Her whose eyes are akin to the lotus, salutations to Her who delights Lord Shiva, and salutations to Her who is rosy-red like the freshly blossomed Kadamba flower.

I offer my salutations to that indescribable, infinite Supreme Being, who wears a garland of Kadamba flowers, in comparison to the splendor of whose body the sun is reduced to a mere speck of light, and who is the ultimate boundary of the ancient Vedic revelations.

We offer our salutations to Her, the wondrous joy of the King of Mountains, who possesses a heavy mass of curly locks, whose radiant rays share the crimson hue of saffron, and whose breasts are so full they overflow all boundaries.

We acknowledge no other deity than Her, whose feet are crimson like the red lotus, whose soft, curly locks of hair surpass the dark moss in beauty, and whose eyes possess the sweet fragrance of the blue lotus.

I am the servant of those innermost desires of Shiva, which are adorned with rosy lips and dark, glossy, curly locks, and are the very life-breath of the sacred Vedas.

My mind is utterly submerged in those mysterious, indescribable life-pulses of Shiva, the destroyer of Kama—pulses that reside upon His lap, radiant and throbbing with a continuous stream of Her playful, charming smiles.

May Lalita protect my head, and may the Divine Mother, in Her nectar-sweet form of Madhumati, guard my forehead; may Bhavani protect the twin arch of my eyebrows, and may She whose arrows are flowers shield my two eyes.

May the youthful Bala protect my nose, and the auspicious Subhaga guard my teeth; may the beautiful Sundari protect my tongue, the primordial energy Adishakti guard my lower lip, and may Chakreshi, the sovereign of the sacred wheels, protect my chin for all eternity.

May Kameshvari protect my ears, and Kamakshi guard the twin contours of my cheeks; may Shringara-nayika, the supreme Queen of Love, protect my face, and Simhasaneshvari, the Sovereign of the Throne, guard my throat.

May the Mother of Skanda protect my shoulders, and She of the rose-red limbs guard my arms; may She who dwells in the lotus protect my hands, and may the victorious Goddess Vijaya ceaselessly guard the rows of my nails.

May She who wields the sugarcane bow protect my chest, and the Daughter of the sovereign mountain guard my abdomen; may the auspicious Kalyani protect my waist, and She who wears the crescent moon upon Her crest guard my hips.

May Uma protect my thighs, and Mridani guard my knees; may the youthful Shodashi protect my shanks, and She who holds the noose and the goad in Her hands guard my feet.

May the Supreme Goddess Para protect me in the morning, and the Sovereign Queen of the Mansion of Gems guard me at midday; may Sharvani protect me in the evening, and Bhairavi Herself guard me through the night.

May Gauri protect my wife, and She whose seat is the central Bindu of the Sri Chakra guard my children; may Srividya protect my fame, and the Great Empress forever guard my virtuous character.

O Auspicious Mother, who manifest as the wind, the fire, the earth, the ether, and the waters; You who are the sun, the moon, the directions of space, time itself, and the very breath of life—protect me!

O Kali, Kapalini, Shulini, Bhairavi, Matangi, Panchami, and Tripura! O Goddess of Speech, Dweller of the Vindhyas, Bala, and Bhuvaneshvari! Protect and nurture me forever.

O Mother! Upon those who meditate in their hearts on Your form, radiant like fresh vermilion, there cascade waves of sidelong glances from lotus-eyed maidens.

For those who meditate upon You as pure white in form, surrounded by Vashini and the other goddesses of speech associated with the eight groups of letters, words of sublime eloquence flow effortlessly from their lips.

Those who meditate upon You, fair and radiant like a rod of pure gold, with a pair of earrings gently swaying from Your ears and a face lit with a gentle smile, become indeed the givers of boundless wealth upon this earth.

For those who daily meditate upon You, who shower the cool nectar of immortality from the center of the thousand-petaled lotus of the head, their life on this earth becomes long, abundant, and blessed.

Only a few highly virtuous souls, rich in spiritual merit, behold You standing close before them—You, who wear a sweet, gentle smile, whose eyes are beautifully reddened with divine rapture, whose bosom is like the majestic temples of an elephant, and who are adorned with the crescent moon.

This jewel of a hymn to Goddess Lalitha, composed in graceful words and the elegant Arya meter—only She Herself is capable of describing the boundless fruits obtained by those who recite it daily upon this earth.

Victorious is the divine Sage Durvasa, the foremost of all spiritual preceptors, who is the very essence of all the Upanishads, and who, as the Supreme Lord, assumed the form of a sage to bestow grace upon the good and restrain the wicked.

Thus concludes the 'Sri Lalitha Stavaratnam' (The Jewel-Hymn of Sri Lalitha), composed by the great sage Durvasa.