ஶ்ரீக்ரு'ஷ்ணார்திக்யம்

A Sanskrit aarti in three long verses, and it argues rather than praises — every request is backed by a precedent it expects to be honoured. Burn away my delusion as you burned the yavana by means of Muchukunda; does the touchstone not make gold out of iron? Fallen like Ajamila, helpless like the lord of elephants, I am; you are able and you know how to give. The second verse presses harder and holds him to his own word: free me from sin as you freed Agha, protect me, for it was said that my devotee does not perish — and remember what you ate in Vidura's house. The third makes the gentlest of its cases, that a mother's mind does not turn to anger against her child, and signs itself with the poet's name, Mayura.