ஶ்ரீ க்ரு'ஷ்ண ஸ்தோத்ரம் (விப்ரபத்நீ க்ரு'தம்)

The hymn of the brahmins' wives, and its shape is a long ascent followed by a deliberate collapse. It begins as high theology and stays there for eight verses: you are brahman, the supreme abode, without motion, without ego, unqualified and formless — and with form and with qualities, yourself; you are nature and spirit and the cause beyond them both; the three gods of making, keeping and ending are your portions; even the great Vishnu in each of whose pores a universe lies has you for his father. Then it turns on itself. Sarasvati goes dumb in the describing of you, and so do Mahesha, Shesha, Dharma and the Creator; so do Parvati, Kamala, Radha, Savitri and the Veda itself — what learned one is equal to it? So the last verse asks nothing else: what praise can we make, who are women? Be pleased with us, friend of the wretched.