śrī bālāmbikā aṣṭakama

Eight verses to Balambika, the girl-goddess of the Shrividya, each closing on the same request — Balambika, cast on me a sidelong glance of grace. The description works upward from the feet and stays with what light does. Her lotus feet are coloured by the sheen of gems set in the crores of jewelled crowns of Brahma and the rest, which is a way of saying the gods are bowed at them; her anklets outdo the cry of swans; the row of her toenails outdoes pearls. Then the girdle of rubies and pearls, the jewelled band shining at the waist, and the fine line of hair likened to a row of bees. One verse steps out of the portrait to name what she is — compassion that has overflowed its shore, dweller in the hearts of all that moves and does not move, made by play.