শ্রী মহিষাসুর মর্দিনী স্তোত্রম্ (অযিগিরি নন্দিনি)

O Daughter of the Mountain (Giri-nandinī), who gladdens the whole earth, who delights the entire universe, praised by Nanda! You who dwell upon the crest of the great Vindhya mountain, the delight of Viṣṇu (Viṣṇu-vilāsinī), lauded by the victorious Indra! O Bhagavatī, consort of the blue-throated one (Śiva), mother of a vast family, doer of abundant good! Victory, victory to You, O Slayer of the buffalo-demon Mahiṣāsura, O Goddess of the lovely braided locks, O Daughter of the Mountain!

O you who shower blessings upon the best of gods, who overpower those hard to subdue, who bear the insolence of the foul-mouthed, who delight in joy; O nourisher of the three worlds, who pleases Śaṅkara (Śiva), who dispels sin, who revels in tumultuous sound; O you who rage against the sons of Danu, who are furious at the sons of Diti, who dry up wicked pride, O daughter of the ocean! Victory, victory to You, O Slayer of the buffalo-demon Mahiṣāsura, O Goddess of the lovely braided locks, O Daughter of the Mountain!

O Mother of the world, my own Mother, who delights in dwelling in the beloved forest of kadamba trees, ever absorbed in joyful laughter; who abides in Your own home upon the lofty peaks of the Himālaya, that crown-jewel among mountains! O You who are sweet as honey, subduer of Madhu and Kaiṭabha, destroyer of Kaiṭabha, delighting in the cosmic dance! Victory, victory to You, O Slayer of the buffalo-demon Mahiṣāsura, O Goddess of the lovely braided locks, O Daughter of the Mountain!

O Goddess, You who have shattered into a hundred pieces the severed headless trunks and hewn off the trunks of the lordly elephants; You whose lion-mount, master of beasts, is fierce in tearing apart the temples of the enemies' elephants and mighty in valor; You who with the staff of Your own arm strike down and fell the fragmented, mutilated heads of the chieftains of the warrior-hosts! Victory, victory to You, O Slayer of the buffalo-demon Mahiṣāsura, O Goddess of the lovely braided locks, O Daughter of the Mountain!

O you who bear the invincible, imperishable power that rises to slay the enemy, intoxicated with the frenzy of battle; O sovereign of the Pramathas, who made the great and auspicious Śiva your messenger, foremost in clever counsel; O you whose mind is like death itself unto the demon messengers of wicked, evil-hearted, and malicious intent! Victory, victory to You, O Slayer of the buffalo-demon Mahiṣāsura, O Goddess of the lovely braided locks, O Daughter of the Mountain!

O Goddess whose hand grants fearlessness to the finest of heroes who take refuge in You — even as it makes widows of the wives of Your enemies! You who bear in Your hand a spotless spear that opposes the trident-like head raised over the three worlds. You who make the horizons resound with the mighty booming 'dumi-dumi' beat of the celestial drums. Victory, victory to You, O Slayer of the buffalo-demon Mahiṣāsura, O Goddess of the lovely braided locks, O Daughter of the Mountain!

O Goddess who, by the mere sound of Your battle-roar, destroyed hundreds of Dhūmravilocana, the smoke-eyed demon! O You who dried up in battle the blood-seed and the creeper of the Śoṇitabīja (Raktabīja, the demon from whose every blood-drop new demons sprang)! O You who, in the great battle with Śumbha and Niśumbha — Śiva! Śiva! — delighted the ghosts and goblins by satiating them with the slain. Victory, victory to You, O Slayer of the buffalo-demon Mahiṣāsura, O Goddess of the lovely braided locks, O Daughter of the Mountain!

O Goddess who wields the bow, engaged in the fleeting moment of battle, whose limbs quiver as your armlets dance; whose quiver is filled with arrows golden-tawny, who slay demons that roar like proud warriors at the peaks; who make the battlefield a stage for the fourfold army upon the earth, thronged with many-hued forms while the young attendants shout aloud! Victory, victory to You, O Slayer of the buffalo-demon Mahiṣāsura, O Goddess of the lovely braided locks, O Daughter of the Mountain!

You who delight in the dance performed with expressive gestures by the celestial women, keeping the rhythm 'tatatheyi tatheyi'; who rejoice in the song filled with eager rhythmic beats sounding 'kukuthaḥ kukuthaḥ' and 'gaḍadādika'; who revel in the deep resonant sound of the mṛdaṅga drum beating 'dhudhukuṭa dhukkuṭa dhindhimita'. Victory, victory to You, O Slayer of the buffalo-demon Mahiṣāsura, O Goddess of the lovely braided locks, O Daughter of the Mountain!

Victory, victory to You, worthy of the chant, whose repeated cry is 'Victory! Victory!', praised by the highest hymns, extolled by the whole universe devoted to You! O You who enchant even Bhūtapati (the Lord of beings, Śiva) with the jingling music of Your anklets that ring out 'bhaṇa-bhaṇa, bhiñjimi, bhiṅ'! O You who delight in the beautiful song of the dance, where the dancer, the half-dancer, the danseuse, and the lead dancer perform their dramatic play! Victory, victory to You, O Slayer of the buffalo-demon Mahiṣāsura, O Goddess of the lovely braided locks, O Daughter of the Mountain!

O Goddess whose radiance is more captivating than the loveliest of flowers and the noblest of noble minds; you whose face outshines the moon that the night takes refuge in, glowing like the queen among moons; O one whose beautiful, roving eyes are the sovereign among the swarming, hovering black bees! Victory, victory to You, O Slayer of the buffalo-demon Mahiṣāsura, O Goddess of the lovely braided locks, O Daughter of the Mountain!

O Goddess delighting in combat with mighty champion warriors gathered for great battle, surrounded by hosts of forest folk — the Pallikas, Mallikas, crickets, and Bhilla tribes amid the woven creepers; graceful with the beautiful sprigs of crimson blossoms that bloom cool and radiant! Victory, victory to You, O Slayer of the buffalo-demon Mahiṣāsura, O Goddess of the lovely braided locks, O Daughter of the Mountain!

O consort-like sovereign of the majestic elephant-king that is intoxicated, its temples continuously flowing with dense rut-fluid! O royal daughter who are the ocean of beauty, the treasury of arts that adorns the three worlds! O daughter of the king of love (Manmatha), who enchant the yearning minds of the fair-toothed maidens! Victory, victory to You, O Slayer of the buffalo-demon Mahiṣāsura, O Goddess of the lovely braided locks, O Daughter of the Mountain!

O Goddess whose spotless, tender radiance is like the petals of a lotus, whose pure forehead is graced with the arts and adorned like a creeper; who dwells amid all graceful sport and the abode of the arts, and about whom swans move sweetly in playful flocks; whose crown is entwined with bakula blossoms surrounded by swarms of bees, amid clusters of blue lotuses thronged with lines of bees! Victory, victory to You, O Slayer of the buffalo-demon Mahiṣāsura, O Goddess of the lovely braided locks, O Daughter of the Mountain!

O sweet-minded one, whose gentle warbling from the flute in your hand outshines and shames the cuckoo's song; who dwells in the mountain groves adorned with the enchanting humming murmurs of assembled Pulinda tribes; whose playgrounds are filled with the good virtues of the hosts of great Śabara women who partake of your own qualities! Victory, victory to You, O Slayer of the buffalo-demon Mahiṣāsura, O Goddess of the lovely braided locks, O Daughter of the Mountain!

O Goddess whose radiance surpasses the moon's beauty through the wondrous rays of the yellow silken garment upon Your waist; O Goddess whose splendor eclipses the moon through the rays sparkling from Your nails, brilliant as the jewels shining in the crowns of gods and demons bowed at Your feet; O Goddess whose full breasts resemble the temple-swellings of a mighty rutting elephant that has surpassed even the golden mountain (Meru) in its proud arrogance! Victory, victory to You, O Slayer of the buffalo-demon Mahiṣāsura, O Goddess of the lovely braided locks, O Daughter of the Mountain!

O Goddess praised by the one thousand-rayed sun who conquers a thousandfold, praised even by that singular thousand-rayed one — you who make the battle for the gods victorious as Tāraka, delighting in the war of Tāraka, who gave birth to the son (Kārttikeya) who slew Tāraka; you who are worshipped by the meditation of King Suratha and by the equal meditation (samādhi) of the merchant Samādhi, immersed in the highest concentration of concentrations, well-born and lovingly devoted. Victory, victory to You, O Slayer of the buffalo-demon Mahiṣāsura, O Goddess of the lovely braided locks, O Daughter of the Mountain!

O abode of compassion, O auspicious one, he who worships your lotus-feet day after day — O lotus-eyed Kamalā, O dweller in the lotus — how could he not become the very seat of Lakṣmī (the abode of fortune)? O gracious one, for me who contemplates that your feet alone are the supreme abode, what could remain unattained? Victory, victory to You, O Slayer of the buffalo-demon Mahiṣāsura, O Goddess of the lovely braided locks, O Daughter of the Mountain!

He who bathes the arena of your glories with waters poured from shining golden vessels — does he, the devotee, not attain that very bliss which Indra knows in embracing the bosom of Śacī, his queen? Let me make your feet my refuge, O you hymned by the bowing immortals, O abode of auspiciousness! Victory, victory to You, O Slayer of the buffalo-demon Mahiṣāsura, O Goddess of the lovely braided locks, O Daughter of the Mountain!

Your face, radiant like the spotless moon, surely surpasses the entire host of pure moons — for what moon could rival it? Is not this moon-faced beauty of Indra's heavenly city (Amarāvatī) turned away and put to shame by the fair-faced celestial maidens who cannot match you? As for my own conviction, O treasure that bears Śiva's name, whatever is to be accomplished, let it be accomplished through your grace! Victory, victory to You, O Slayer of the buffalo-demon Mahiṣāsura, O Goddess of the lovely braided locks, O Daughter of the Mountain!

O Umā, toward me, wretched as I am, you must surely become compassionate, showing mercy to the lowly. O Mother of the universe, O Rati (delight of the world), even as you are full of grace, so are you inferred and known to be by your very grace. Whatever is fitting here, may you graciously accept it, and dispel this fierce, burning affliction of mine. Victory, victory to You, O Slayer of the buffalo-demon Mahiṣāsura, O Goddess of the lovely braided locks, O Daughter of the Mountain!