"GLORY OF HIS FEET DIVINE"
(Thiruvadi Perumai)
Dear seekers of Truth,
Translation of Songs 5, 6, 7, 8 and 9.
Song No.5
Reigning throne by name, as lord of the council golden
Up to horizon clad in grosser, my husband married me;
Extolled by prayer of those destined to implore, of wisdom
His constitution glows in light, savage karma dissevering
Mind of whom, mighty hand of abhaya blesses in grace;
Monarch of the damsel Sivakamavalli, upon His crown
The Ganges in spate, His glory unknown even to Vedas
How of all, I could alone glorify Him, tell me, oh my maid
Song No.6
Fruits of trinity succulent with their distilled juices mixed
With the sap of sugarcane grown tall and ripe crushed
Blended with milk unadulterated and honey of a bough,
Mixed with raw rice cooked; as if such elixir I too tasted
All my mind resonate again, again with words so sweet
Pronouncing pleasure, the mate of my soul married me;
Dances He in the form of cosmic particles and of whose
Glory am I competent to recount, not at all, oh my maid.
Song No.7
Assuming the blissful form of microcosm and the grace
Of dance, dancing with the two feet divine with gracing,
Intellect of the intellectuals devoted in prayerful penance
Germinating in such wisdom, elixir of Shiva with its bliss;
Cosmic form full of divinity far beyond the sound unheard
Transcending the microcosm, if so, the realized recounts,
The macrocosm of the Almighty, splendid king of dance
Such of His glory whether am I to impart, never my maid
Song No.8
Up to sound unheard progressed Vedas teeming in trillions
Reclined in weariness; the testaments up to sound cosmic
Searching the horizon of wisdom with faces in many phases,
As to the union still are ignorant, the enlightened if so affirms;
Glistening up to feet with ashes white smeared, as of glowing
Assumed as form, dancing the dance of nature in space open
Such wisdom incarnate only to be beheld; of His glory by me
Whether amenable to any expression, tell me, oh my maid
Song No.9.
Spreading all the space of the finite, far beyond the finite
Becoming infinite, within that infinite subtle of the subtlest
Beyond the veil in the space divine, the bliss of the blissful
Without dancing, the feet of divinity still sworn as dancing,
Transcending the secret they too declare, we too hear; if so
His virtuosity of my absolute master, the holy king of dance
Spanning the horizon, His shoulders in ashes white; of his
Truthfulness, am I capable to recite, I am not, oh my maid.
Translation to be continued…
With regards
sivajayakumar
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