( I )
Pranams to Thee
Lord of the South !
Blessed fount of wisdom
Seated on the throne
Of
bliss and truth !
With matted locks of brown
With silver crescent crown
With holy Ganges fair
Arising out of Thy hair ;
With black-brown snaky coils
With garlanded grinning skulls
Adorning Thy ash-smeared breast
With crystal rosary and Vedas in palms
You shine like fire with benign charm
Base desires suppressed like devils
Under Thy lotus-feet, Oh Master Still !
Seated upright
in lotus-pose
With half-shut radiant eyes
Ensconced in yogic guise
Accept our hymns, oh Master Wise!
Pranams
to Thee
Lord
of the south!
Before whom gods of Heaven
Bow with reverence due ;
And through silence view
To learn the
lessons of the soul
And ancient Vedic lore
Through fixed mental gaze
'bove
the grip of sensual glee
In divine communion with Thee :
In tranquil, sage forests green
In icy caves of Lord Himavanth
Where Vedic chants are heard
As the Ganges gurgles
through rocks ;
The oldest sages sat with rapt attention
Before the youthful Master divine
Under the wide-spread banyan tree
Submerged in devotion supreme;
Hail to Thee, Mighty majestic master of truth !
Pranams to Thee ! God of Mercy and Ruth .
*************************************
Note : Ensconced = Sit comfortably
Ruth =Compassion
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