I bow to thee, Mother richly-watered, richly-fruited
cool with the winds of the south dark with the crops of the harvests
the Mother.
Her nights rejoicing in the glory of the moonlight
her lands clothed beautifully with her trees in flowering bloom
sweet of laughter, sweet of speech
the Mother, giver of boons, giver of bliss.
Terrible with the clamorous shout of
seventy-million throats and the sharpness of swords raised in twice seventy-million hands
who sayeth to thee, Mother, that thou art weak?
Holder of multitudinous strength,
I bow to her who saves
to her who drives from her the armies of her foemen
the Mother.
Thou art knowledge, thou art conduct,
thou art heart, thou art soul,
for thou art the life in our body.
In the arm thou art might, O Mother,
in the heart, O Mother, thou art love and faith,
it is thy image we raise in every temple;
For thou art Durga holding her ten weapons of war
Kamala at play in the lotuses
and speech, the goddess, giver of all lore,
to thee I bow.
I bow to thee, goddess of wealth
pure and peerless
richly-watered,richly-fruited
the Mother.
I bow to thee Mother,
dark-hued candid
sweetly smiling, jewelled and adorned.
the holder of wealth, the lady of plenty.
the Mother.
English translation by Sri Aurobindo
|
