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Hymn to the Mighty God


Rider on hunch of mighty bull,
With sword well-armed for striking foes,
Of even thieves the Lord supreme,
Again prostrations, prostrations.

To robbers' chief be prostrations,
Armed with quiver filled with arrows,
To tricky, sly, marauder-chief,
Deceiving one be prostrations.

To cunning leader of the thieves,
Lurking at home to loot the folk,
And prowling in the thick of trees
And open streets, be prostrations.

To self-protecting animals,
Retaliating thieves who strike
To death the people on the way,
To dacoit-chief be prostrations.

To man-hunters hiding at night
With sword well-armed to booty gain;
To helmeted and turbaned chief
Roving in hills, be prostrations.

Prostration be to wielders arms'
Who hold the arrow and the bow,
Who string the bow and arrow shoot,
Who hit targets, be prostrations.

To those who sit and who recline,
To those who sleep and are awake,
To those who stand and those who run,
To them prostrations, prostrations.

To assemblies and their mentors,
To horses and the horse-riders,
To active ones, inactive ones,
Prostrations be, our prostrations.

To powers that can strike at will,
The violent ones and gentle ones,
To chiefs of sense-indulgent rakes,
To hosts of beings, prostrations.

To chiefs of hosts of men and gods,
To hosts immortal and mortal,
The formless and the all-formed ones,
To best and worst be prostrations.

To chariot-riders prostrations,
And also who have no chariots,
To chariots and their owner-lords,
Our prostrations and prostrations.

To armies be our prostrations,
To army-chiefs our prostrations,
To trained and apprentice drivers
To carpenters be prostrations.

To cars and car-makers in war,
To potters as well as blacksmiths,
To fowlers and the fishermen,
Our prostrations, be prostrations.

To artisans of bows, arrows,
To hunters and the huntsmen hordes,
To hounds and keepers of the hounds,
Prostrations be, our prostrations.

To Creator and Destroyer,
Of ills remover, Lord of all,
The blue-necked one and fair-necked one,
To matted-locked, be prostrations.

To clean-shaven be prostrations,
To thousand-eyed be prostrations,
To wielder of multiple bows,
Our prostrations, our prostrations.

To mountain-dweller prostrations,
To immanent God prostrations,
To arrow-wielder and who rains
Through clouds heavily, prostrations.

To Him of small limbs and the dwarf,
To Him of huge size, multi-formed,
To Ancient One who glories high
As eternity, prostrations.

The One Primeval, Chief of all,
Omnipresent and fast-moving,
The quick and flowing in his deeds,
To Him prostrations, prostrations.

To Him who roars as waves of sea,
Who calmly stays in still waters,
Who swift rivers and islands forms,
To Him prostrations, prostrations.

To eldest one and youngest one,
To ancient one and recent one,
To middling one and crawling babe,
To last of all be prostrations.

To trees and plants and their branches,
To foliage and floral blooms,
To mixed one as virtue-vice,
To life's process be prostrations.

To Yama dispensing justice,
To bestower of salvation,
To Him who rains on green harvests,
Who lives in farms, be prostrations.

Who is the Veda and their hymns,
Meditations of Upanishads,
In trees, creepers and plants who lives,
In sound and echo, prostrations.

Who dwells in armies moving fast,
In chariots rattling forth in war,
As valiant one who destroys foes,
To Him who leads be prostrations.

Who leads the hosts with shield in hand,
Helmeted and with armoured strength,
To renowned hero, ancient one,
Of forces famed our prostrations.

Who dwells in drum and tabour sounds,
Who never retreats from battle-fields,
To ablest reconnoitre chiefs,
To Him prostrations, prostrations.

Who dwells in spies and messengers,
Who wield the sword far field's action,
Who quivers carry with arrows,
To Him prostrations, prostrations.

Who countless weapons, sharp arrows,
Auspicious trident, blessed bow,
Wields expertly to rout the foe
To Him prostrations, prostrations.

In narrow lanes and broad highways
Who lives in dribbling streams that flow,
Who rushes as mountain torrents,
To Him prostrations, prostrations.

Who lives in marshes and wide lakes,
In rivers and reservoirs,
Who is in wells and dug-out pits,
To Him prostrations, prostrations.

Who is in rains and oceans vast,
Who lives in clouds and lightning strokes,
To God of Gods in every form
Our prostrations, our prostrations.

In autumn clouds and heating sun,
In winds who lives and deluge, storms,
In flooding downpours who abides,
To Him prostrations, prostrations.

In land and cattle who resides,
As Uma's Lord who glories high,
Who causes foes to flee for life,
To Him prostrations, prostrations.

As rising sun crimson-coloured,
As reddish sun high up risen,
Who brings abundant peace to all,
To Him prostrations, prostrations.

Who protects creatures as parent,
Terrible uprooter of foes,
Who strikes fear to who oppose,
To Him prostrations, prostrations.

Who strikes in front and strikes behind
The foes who dare to confront Him,
Who destroys here and in the end
Destroys the all, we salute Him.

In forms of trees with greenish leaves,
Who is Pranava embodied,
The source of bliss hereafter, here,
To Him prostrations, prostrations.

All happiness who dispenses,
Heavenly as well as earthly,
Most auspicious and more than all
Exalted, to Him prostrations.

In holy waters of the shrines,
In emblems raised on river-banks,
Who abides on this shore of life
And other shore, to Him we bow.

The means to cross to other shore,
As ritual work and wisdom's light,
The cause of birth and Karma's fruit,
To Him prostrations, prostrations.

In tender grass and fleeting foam
Who lives in sands on banks and shores,
Who moves as briskly flowing rivers,
To Him prostrations, prostrations.

In fertile lands and broad highways,
In rocky grounds and habitats,
Who lives as all their very soul,
To Him prostrations, prostrations.

Who matted locks does tie on head,
To suppliants reveals Himself,
Who lives in cowsheds and in homes,
To Him prostrations, prostrations.