śrīnṛsiṃhastutiḥ

I bow to that Narasimha, who shines with the brilliance of a thousand rising suns, whose gaze is fierce, whose roar is like the sound of the cosmic ocean at the time of dissolution, whose face is like the fire that consumes the world at the end of an eon, whose limbs are smeared with the blood of the enemy of the king of gods, and who removes the fears of those who surrender to Him.

O Narasimha, whose effulgence is like the terrifying rays of the sun at the time of universal dissolution, who illuminates all directions with your brilliant radiance, who possess a terrifying and intense roar of laughter born of extreme anger, burn, O burn away my sins, O Lord of unbearable prowess.

O Narasimha, whose feet strike the earth with such intense force that the fourteen worlds tremble in awe and offer You praise; whose feet are reddened by the blood of Your enemies; O You of intolerable prowess, burn, burn away my afflictions.

Having perceived the thunderous roar of Your thighs, which are like massive iron bars, and Your form, which is like a mountain of blazing energy, the host of demons, who were swift in their movements, fled away in terror. O Narasimha, of unbearable prowess, burn, burn away my afflictions.

O Narasimha, whose waist is adorned with a golden girdle shining like the peak of a mountain, who wears a garment as brilliant as lightning, who is extremely skilled in action, and who destroys the fierce and wicked gaze of the arrogant; burn, burn away my enemies, O You of unbearable prowess.

O Narasimha, whose sharp claws like thunderbolts tore open the chest of the enemy (Hiranyakashipu), whose body is smeared with the blood flowing from the mountain-like chest of that foe, who possesses beautiful folds on your auspicious abdomen, and who have a deep, noble navel, burn, burn away my sins and enemies, O Lord of unbearable prowess.

That very garland of stars shines forth in your presence, which has traversed the path of the stars after tearing open the chest of the demon; O Narasimha, whose two hands rest upon your knees while holding the discus, burn, burn away my enemies, O you of unbearable prowess.

I meditate upon You, whose mane, thick and formidable, scatters the clouds and occupies the vast expanse of the sky, and whose arms, like iron bars, are poised to crush; O Narasimha of unbearable prowess, burn, burn away my enemies.

O Narasimha, whose lips are bitten in intense fury, whose mane is like lightning, whose chest is hard and capable of tearing apart enemies, who wears a garland of terrifying entrails around your neck, and whose power is unbearable—burn, burn my sins and enemies.

O Narasimha, whose fierce radiance consumes the multitude of sins, whose weapons are infinite and whose brilliance mocks the fire, who bears the lion-face that strikes delusion into the hearts of enemies—burn, burn away my sins, O Lord of unbearable power.

O Narasimha, who dwells within the cave of the great mountain of the Guru's teachings, who shines like the sun upon the jeweled peak, who is radiant like a blazing fire, who possesses sharp fangs and a terrifying, protruding tongue, burn, burn away my enemies, O You of unbearable prowess.

O Narasimha, whose intense laughter, echoing through the cosmic shells, shatters the patience and meditation of the gods, who destroys the enemies of the celestials by the devotion of the wise, and who possesses unbearable prowess—burn, burn away my sins.

O Narasimha, whose three eyes, which are like the flames of the fire of dissolution, consume the three worlds as if they were mere blades of grass, whose feet pervade the entire universe, who possess the reddish hue of the newly risen sun, and whose gaze is fierce; burn, burn away my enemies, O You of unbearable prowess.

O Narasimha, You who shatter the heavy burden of the earth caused by the arrogant kings who wander about, You who possess fresh and wonderful movements of the eyebrows, You who are infinite and pure, You who are the Lord of the celestials, You who destroy the fear of those who bow to You, You who shine brilliantly, O Lord, O Lord, O All-pervading One, burn, burn away my sins with Your unbearable power.

With ear-rings dangling and striking against your cheeks, with a forehead furrowed in a fierce frown, with a prominent nose and reddish lips, O bestower of boons, O granter of desires, with your resplendent mane scattering the stars, burn, burn away my enemies, O Narasimha of unbearable prowess.

O Lord, who art adorned with a crown of radiant gems shining amidst Thy flowing mane, whose neck and shoulders are bedecked with brilliant, lustrous armlets, who art embellished with golden bracelets, waist-girdles, anklets, and rings; burn, burn away my enemies, O Narasimha of unbearable prowess!

Holding a sword, a shield, a bow and arrow, a mace, a pestle, a noose, and a goad in Your hands, and with Your pair of hands tearing open the chest of the enemy and wearing his entrails as a garland, O Narasimha of unbearable prowess, burn, burn away my enemies.

Crackle, crackle, crackle! Distract and confuse the enemy from afar. Break, break, break the body, burn it and shatter it. Strike, strike, strike with speed the enemy and his allies. Burn, burn, O Narasimha, with your unbearable power, all that is hostile to me.

O Lord, whose fierce fangs and tongue-protruding mouth emit sparks of fire that bewilder Brahma, Shiva, and the King of the Gods, and who possesses three eyes; O Narasimha, whose power is unbearable, protect me, your devoted servant, who calls out to You repeatedly; burn, O burn away my enemies.

Bestow, bestow that sprout of compassion upon me, O slayer of the demon; Direct, direct toward me Your pure and eternal divine gaze. Victory, victory, victory to You, O Lord, who are never distressed and who conquer the side of the adversaries; Burn, burn, O Narasimha, with Your unbearable power, all that is inimical to me.

This hymn to Narasimha, which destroys all sins, is like a serene body adorned with garlands, bringing peace from all sides. May those who are ever endowed with noble virtues, through their well-regulated and righteous actions, always serve that supreme Guru, the glorious Lord who bears the goddess of fortune.

He who reads this hymn of Lord Narasimha, which is composed by the son of Likucatilaka, which follows the path of true meaning, which is the cause for the destruction of enemies, and which destroys all sins, attains the abode of Lord Narasimha, being free from attachment to lust, greed, and the like.

Thus ends the Sri Narasimha Stuti composed by Trivikrama Panditacharya, the ornament of the clan of poets. OR Thus is completed the Sri Narasimha Stotra composed by Narayana Panditacharya, son of the ornament of the clan of poets, Sri Trivikrama Panditacharya.