śrī bālā pañcacāmara stavaḥ

Ten verses in the panchachamara metre — a strict alternation of light and heavy syllables that gives the hymn a marching, unbroken pulse — and every line of it rhymes on the same feminine ending, so the sound is as regular as the metre. She is the daughter of the king of mountains, her form like the sun's, telling a rosary of coral, crusher of the demons. She wears the lord of night on her crown, is bright with a row of human heads, is called by the name of new youth, and destroys sin. The device holds for all ten verses, each a single closed sentence, and the closing one gives the fruit in the tantric formula: whatever desire the practitioner thinks of, that he obtains; accomplishment lies in the palm of his hand, and at death he obtains release.