Nācciyār Tirumoḷi | Āṇḍāḷ | 5-9



He is the eternal Mādhava
who is praised by all in the world.
He has a beautiful sapphire-coloured body.
He is a king decorated with a crown studded with jewels.
I have a problem with him—
my conch bangles became loose
because I fell in love with him.
O cuckoo bird!
You live in the holes
in punnai, kurukkathi, nyazhal and cherundi trees.
Won’t you coo and call at all times of the day
for him who has a coral mouth to come quickly to me?


The faultless god
who carries in his left hand a sounding white conch
does not show his form to me.
He entered my heart and makes me long for his love.
See, he is taking my life away and playing with my feelings.
O cuckoo bird!
You drink the honey that drips
from the blooming shenbaga flowers
and sing happily.
Don’t be lazy and prattle, just sing and be happy.
Coo and call so the lord of Vēṅkaṭam hill comes to me.


As Rāma he fought with Rāvaṇa
while the charioteer Madali drove his chariot
and he cut off all the ten heads of Rāvaṇa,
shooting his arrows like rain.
I don’t see that lord coming to me.
O cuckoo bird!
You live with your beloved wife
listening to the chāmara music of the bees
that have dots on their bodies,
in the groves where fragrant flowers bloom
and spread their smell.
Coo and call the dark-coloured god
who shines like a diamond so he will come to me.


My bones melt.
My long spear-like eyes do not close.
I entered an ocean of sorrow
and I could not find the boat called the god Vaikuntaṉ
to escape from my suffering.
O cuckoo bird!
You know how hard it is to be apart from your beloved.
Coo and call so the virtuous one
who has a golden body and an eagle flag will come to me.


He stays in Villiputtur
where the swans that walk softly play.
My fish-like eyes do not close to sleep
because they wish to see his golden feet.
O cuckoo bird!
I will make the beautiful parrot
that I raised feeding it sweet rice and milk
be your friend.
Coo and call so he who measured the world will come to me.


Hrishīkesa who is worshipped by the gods
in all directions made me unhappy with love
and the beauty of the white pearl like-smile
of my red mouth and of my breasts was all lost.
O young cuckoo bird!
You sleep in a beautiful place
in a grove blooming with flowers.
If you coo and call for the true god to come to me,
I will bow down to you with my head.
I don’t know any other way to pay you back.


My breasts have grown out and they are happy
because they want to embrace the lord
who sleeps on the surging milky ocean.
They make me sad also since I have not seen him.
O beautiful cuckoo bird, why are you hiding?
If you coo and call and make the god
who carries a discus, conch and strong club come to me,
you will have the benefit of doing many generous acts.


He shoots arrows from his bow with his strong hands.
He is clever and someone who can be loved by all.
He and I know the promises that we made when we stayed in our home.
O small cuckoo bird!
You pluck the tender shoots of the sweet mango tree in the grove.
If you coo and call for Tirumāḷ to come here quickly,
you will see what I can do for him.
You will see how I show my love for him.


I fell in the love with the god
Śrīdhara who has the colour of a green parrot.
O cuckoo bird!
You live in a grove that swarms with shining bees.
Give me your attention and listen.
You should coo and call
for the god who carries a conch and discus to come to me,
or you should find the golden bangles
that I have lost and bring them to me.
If you want to live in this grove,
you should do one of these things.


I fell in love with the god
who measured the world and became his devotee,
but he only makes me sad
because I love him and I have not seen him .
I cannot describe the sorrow
that the breeze and the moon give me.
O cuckoo bird!
Don’t make me suffer
staying in this grove and cooing always.
If you don’t call today for Nārāyaṇa to come,
I will chase you away from here.


The Paṭṭar Kodai, chief of Puduvai
where Brahmins live who recite with music the four Vedas
composed ten poems about how a woman
who has spear-like eyes asked a cuckoo bird
to call for the god who grew into the sky
and measured the world to come, saying,
“O dark cuckoo bird!
Coo and call my beloved who has the colour of the ocean.”
Those who learn these poems and recite them and say,
“Namo, Nārāyaṇa!” will reach the god.
A thalaivi dreams about her wedding with the god
and talks to her friend


O friend, I had a dream.
People decorated every place with festoons
and put out golden pots with coconuts
to welcome Nārāyaṇa Nambi
when he comes in procession
surrounded by a thousand elephants.


O friend, I had a dream.
My relatives decided the day for my wedding.
They decorated a beautiful pandal with kamuhu trees.
Mādhava Govinda who once took a form of a lion,
strong as a bull, entered into the pandal
and I saw him in my dream.


O friend, I had a dream.
Indra and the other gods came together,
asked for me to be his bride
and made all the arrangements.
My sister-in-law Durga tied a silk marriage sari on me
and decorated me with fragrant garlands.


O friend, I had a dream.
The Brahmin brought divine water
from different directions and sprinkled it all over.
They sang songs of purification.
The priest tied the string bound together with flowers
on my hand and on the divine groom’s hand to protect us.


O friend, I had a dream.
Dancing women carried shining lights and kalasams
and went in front of him and welcomed him.
The king of Madura walked touching the earth
as the earth shook.


O friend, I had a dream.
The drums were beaten.
The lined conches were blown.
My bridegroom, Nambi Madhusūdana,
came and held my hand
under the pandal that was decorated
with hanging strings of pearl garlands.


Brahmins who know the mantras well
recited the Vedas and mantras.
They made a likeness of the sun
with green naṇal grass.
He who is strong as an angry elephant
held my hand and we circled the fire.


O friend, I had a dream.
He is the refuge for this birth
and the fourteen future births.
He is Nārāyaṇa Nambi and he is our king.
He held my feet with his perfect divine fingers
and placed them on the grinding stone.


O friend, I had a dream.
My brothers who have shining faces
and who carry bows
came and stood in front of us.
They kindled the fire and made it bright
and joined my hand with the hand of Achyuta
who once took the form of a lion,
and they poured popped rice on it.


O friend, I had a dream.
I was decorated with kumkum
and smeared with cool sandal paste.
I went with him on an elephant in procession
circling through all the auspicious streets
as people sprinkled turmeric water on us.


The chief of Villiputtur Kodai
who is praised by the family of Veyars
composed a garland of ten Tamil poems that describe a dream of the thalaivi
and what she said about her marriage with the cowherd.
Those who learn and recite these ten poems
will give birth to many good children and find happiness.
The conch and the thalaivi


O white conch, you were born in the ocean.
Tell me, I ask you anxiously.
What is the taste and the fragrance
of the mouth of Mādhava
who broke the tusks of the elephant?
Does it have the fragrance of camphor?
Does it have the fragrance of a lotus flower?
Does his beautiful red coral mouth taste sweet?


O beautiful conch!
You were born in the ocean.
You entered the body of the Asura Pañchajanya
and you rest in the hand of the god now.
You make the sound of victory
when the god conquers the evil Asuras.


You are a wonderful conch!
Like the full moon that rises in the autumn
from behind the large mountain,
you stay in the hands of Vāsudeva
the king of northern Madura.


O beautiful large valampuri conch!
You are like the moon even though you are not in the sky.
You stay in the hand of the god Dāmodara.
Do you say any mantras in his ears?
Even Indra the king of gods
does not have the fortune that you have.


O Pañchajanya!
Others were born along with you in the ocean,
but they do not receive the great respect that you do.
You drink constantly the nectar from the mouth
of the king Madhusūdana.


O Valampuri conch!
You have not gone to the Ganges
or on other pilgrimages to bathe.
You are in the hands of Maal
who has beautiful eyes
and who destroyed the Asuras
when they came as the marudam trees.
You have the good fortune of plunging
into the divine water that comes from the mouth of the god.


You are the king of conches!
Like a swan that stays on a fresh red lotus flower
and drinks honey,
you are held in the beautiful hands of Vāsudeva
who has a dark body and red eyes and you stay with him.
Your good fortune is truly wonderful.


O Pañchajanya!
Your food is the nectar
that springs from the mouth of the god
who measured the world.
You sleep on the hands of the god
who has the colour of the ocean.
Women complain loudly about your good luck,
and you make them jealous.


O great and fortunate conch!
You drink the nectar from the mouth of Mādhava
as if you were drinking honey.
Won’t his sixteen thousand wives be angry
when they see you with him
drinking the nectar that all others want to drink?


Paṭṭarpiran Kodai
who is famous in rich Puduvai
composed ten Tamil poems
describing the god Padmanābha with the Pañchajanya conch.
Those who learn and recite these poems
will be near the god.
The cloud messenger


O clouds!
You look like a blue blanket covering the sky.
Tirumāḷ, the god of Vēṅkaṭam hill where clear water flows
has not come to see me
and my eyes shed tears that fall on my breasts.
I am tired. I am just a woman.
Is it right that he should destroy my pride like this?


O great clouds!
You pour rain like rich pearls.
Do you have any message
from the god of Vēṅkaṭam, the generous one
who has the dark colour of night?
My love for him burns me like fire.
If in the middle of the night
the breeze comes and hurts me,
how will I survive?


O clouds, you are generous
and give rain to the earth.
My shining beauty, bangles, mind and sleep
have all gone, taking my pride with them.
I survive singing the great qualities of Govinda,
the god of Tiruvēṅkaṭam where cool waterfalls flow.


O shining clouds with lightning!
He is the lord of Tiruvēṅkaṭam
and the goddess Lakshmi stays on his handsome chest.
Can you tell him that my breasts desire
every day to embrace his golden chest?


O dark clouds!
You rise in the sky and spread everywhere.
You pour rain in Tiruvēṅkaṭam
and make the flowers bloom and drip honey.
The god who split open the body of Hiraṇya
with his sharp nails
has taken away my bangles.
If you would go to him to bring back my bangles,
tell him how much I love him and suffer.


O cool clouds!
You take water from the ocean,
rise to the sky and pour rain everywhere
in Tiruvēṅkaṭam of the god
who took the land from Mahābali.
Like insects that enter into a vilam fruit and eat it,
Nārāyaṇa has entered into my heart and made me suffer.
Go and tell him how much I love him.


O cool clouds
that float on the hills of Tiruvēṅkaṭam
of the god who churned the milky ocean filled with conches!
I bow to the feet of Maal who has beautiful eyes
and ask him for one thing.
Only if he comes one day and embraces me
smearing kumkum paste on my breasts
I will be able to survive.
Go tell him this.


O clouds that rise in the rainy season
in Tiruvēṅkaṭam hills!
I fall down like the old leaves of the erukkam plants
when raindrops fall on them.
I recite the names of the god
who went to the battlefield and fought.
Will he come one day and talk to me?


O big clouds! You rise like rutting elephants.
You think Tiruvēṅkaṭam is your place and live there.
What does the god
who sleeps on the snake bed wish to tell me?
The people of the world may say,
“He doesn’t understand that she thinks that he is her refuge
and he hurts her who is beautiful as a vine.”


Viṣṇu-Citta Kodai, the chief of Puduvai
flourishing with richness composed ten Tamil poems
about how a thalaivi who has a beautiful forehead
asks the clouds to go as messengers
and tell the suffering of her love
to the god who sleeps on the snake bed.
Those who learn these poems and keep them in their minds
will become devotees of the god.
The love of the thalaivi for Maal


O velvet mites,
you are coloured like red Sindūra powder.
You fly everywhere in the groves of Tirumāliruñcōlai.
He churned the milky ocean with Mandāra mountain
and took the sweet nectar from it.
I am caught in my love for the god who has handsome arms.
It is like a net. Will I survive this sorrow?


O friend,
the mullai flowers on the vines in the forest
filled with blossoms laugh at me in Tirumāliruñcōlai
where elephants fight with each other and play.
The vines that grow in the rainy season
bloom as if to say, “You will not survive!”
To whom can I tell the pain that his garland gives me?


O beautiful karuvilai flowers! Kaya flowers!
You have the colour of Tirumāḷ.
Tell me how I can survive.
Is it right that strong-armed Nambi of Tirumāliruñcōlai
who is always playing
should come into our house and steal my bangles?


O cuckoo birds who live in the flourishing groves!
Peacocks! Beautiful karuvilai blossoms!
Fresh kala fruits! Colourful fragrant kaya flowers!
You are my five most powerful enemies.
Why must you have the colour of the dear lord
of beautiful Tirumāliruñcōlai?
Is it to make me sad with love and hurt me?


O swarm of bees,
you have the divine colour of the dark cloud-coloured god
who has beautiful eyes
and who stays in Tirumāliruñcōlai
surrounded with flourishing flowers.
O abundant, beautiful mountain springs!
O lovely lotus flowers!
Tell me, who can be my refuge?


I made a hundred pots of butter
for Nambi of Tirumāliruñcōlai
surrounded with fragrant groves.
I told him that I will fill all the hundred pots
with sweet pongal for him.
Do you think the god who grows more and more beautiful
will come and eat?


If the dear god of Tirumāliruñcōlai
where a fragrant breeze blows
enters my heart and stays there,
I will make hundred thousand pots of butter
and sweet pongal and give them to him.
If he comes today and eats,
I will give him all these pots and serve him.


A flock of black sparrows wakes up in the morning,
welcomes the god Maal and sings the raga maruḷ.
Is it true that they sing that raga to wake up the god?
They sing as if they were repeating the names
of the great god of Tirumāliruñcōlai,
our lord of Dwara pathi who sleeps on a banyan leaf,
but he does not come to me.


I seem to hang down like the golden flowers
that hang from the branches of kondrai trees
in Tirumāliruñcōlai surrounded by groves
where kongu flowers bloom.
When will I hear the sound of the conch
that he blows with his lotus mouth,
and the sound of his Sarngam bow that shoots arrows?


Viṣṇu-Citta the chief of Villiputtur
whose garland swarms with bees
composed ten lovely Tamil poems
praising the beautiful lord who stays in Tirumāliruñcōlai
where the Silamparu river flows
bringing sandalwood, akil wood
and throwing them up on its banks.
Those who learn and recite these ten lovely poems
will join the feet of Tirumāḷ.
Flowers blooming in the rainy season