Tiruvāymoḷi of Nammāḷvār | Book 3


Śrīmatē rāmāṉujāya nama:
Tiruvāy moḻi mūṉṟām pattu


Third Centum-First Decade


Did the radiance of your face blossom into a radiant crown over you 
Did the radiance of your lotus feet blossom into a lotus pedestal below you? 
Did the radiance of your golden frame transform itself
into the robes and ornaments all over you?  O Tell me, Lord!


The lotus flower is no match to your eyes, hands and feet.
Burnished gold is no match to your radiant face. 
All the praise of all the worlds  heaped on you
do but naught to compliment your grace.


Effulgent Lord most high!  You made the Universe! 
Another effulgent Lord as you, I do not see. 
So with nothing to compare you by, I fall back mute,
O, Govinda my Lord!


This world does not see the radiance of your frame. 
You distracted men with thoughts and let them roam,
while yourself enjoying the thought of cool Tulasī. 
O, Lord, does not the world stand to lose by this?


O, Lord of natural radiance, through past, present and future! 
Exceeding the radiance obtained by the hardest penance,
you stand above, guarding the Universe, 
How can I ever praise you fully?


Even the scriptures and whatever else the world reads,
do but speak of your glory only in part. 
Lord of Tulasī crown and lotus chest! 
O How can I praise you enough?


O Lord who willed Brahma the maker and Śiva too! 
What though your praise-singer be many? 
Even if they and the hordes of gods come and sing, 
Your effulgent glory cannot come to an end.


O Constant Lord with a frame of pure radiance! 
O Lord of perfect knowledge, O whole Being!
Even if the king of celestials were to sing your praise,
the radiance of your lotus feet will never diminish.


O Lord, you came riding on the Garuda bird
and saved the devotee-elephant with your discus. 
What if all your devotees became illumined,
would that exhaust your glory?


O Radiant lotus-Lord extolled by the Vedas! 
You ate, made, remade, lifted, and strode the Earth! 
Even if Śiva, Brahma and Indra stand and worship,
would your wonder ever stand exhausted?


This decade of the perfect thousand songs
by Caṭakōpaṉ of Kurukūr, -where godly men reside,
-addresses the wonder-Lord extolled by the Vedas,
Those who can sing it will break the cords of rebirth and secure heaven.


O cloud-hued Lord, you made the Earth and Ocean! 
This body you have me then drags on painfully,
O, when will I cut my Karmas by the root,
when end this wretched life and join you?


O Vāmana who measured the wide Earth! 
I am fallen in Māyā, suffering countless rebirths.
Cutting the endless Karmas that follow me doggedly,
when will find you lovely lotus-feet?


O Lord who steered the chariot in the battlefield, 
Smiting death to the wicked in the Bharata war! 
Pray tell me how I may join your feet,
cutting as under my bodily connexions.


O Lord of infinite illumination, pervading all with no loss or gain!
Pray come and tell me how I may cut my lowly ways and find your lotus feet.


My Lord of Kaya-blossom hue! 
You seem to come, my radiant Lord, but never stay!
O, How now can I join you,
if you do not stay and give me strength?


Then I had no power to discriminate,
and lost myself in trivial pleasures. 
O Lord you made these countless thousand souls! 
O when will I reach your golden feet?


O Heart of mine, benefit of true knowledge,
you suffer endless karmic birth. 
O when will we join our knowledge-Lord,
the radiant Krishna who lives in all forever?


O Lord Krishna, my eternal glory-flood! 
Alas, I have not ceased my lowly Karmas
not relentlessly worshipped your lotus feet,
"Krishna", I call, O where can I see you?


I stand and call from deep inside in my Karmic tomb
and flounder through many dismal paths. 
Then my Lord did grace the cows and walk the Earth. 
O where can I find him now?


The pall of affliction so strong over me,
as if the god of death had come throwing his snare,
is over now, for I have my Krishna in my heart, 
He is the Lord of knowledge and eternal life.


This decade of the perfect thousand songs
by Caṭakōpaṉ of Kurukūr where sweet cuckoos haunt,
addresses the Lord who contains all the worlds and souls. 
Those who can sing it will rid the soul of its envelopes of flesh.


At all times and forever by his side,
we must perform stainless service,
to the radiant Lord of Vēṅkaṭam, the hill with streams. 
He is my father's father.


The Lord of Vēṅkaṭam hill,
Lord of cloud-hue and eternal glory,
is worshipped with flowers,
by Indra and all the celestials.


The cool-springs Vēṅkaṭam Lord of countless glories
has beautiful lotus-eyes, a black gem-hue and coral lips.


Does it behove his glory to be praised by me,
-lowly and meritless? Yet I have his love!


The glorious Vēṅkaṭam Lord is the nectar of the Vedas,
first-cause of all.  Can he be praised?


Those who serve him even by lip alone
are rid of past Karmas and relieved of future ones.


The dark Vēṅkaṭam Lord
worshipped by Indra and all the celestials
with flowers, incense, lamp and water,
gives up tranquil liberation.


The wonder-Lord who stopped the rains, and measured the Earth
has come to stay in Vēṅkaṭam. 
Worshipping him destroys our Karmas.


those who remember the lotus feet
of the Cowherd Lord of Vēṅkaṭam in every act and word
shall end their four-fold miseries.


Before your numbered days are spent,
before old age saps your strength,
reach for the lotus feet of Vēṅkaṭam,
the Lord of hooded serpent bed.


Singing this decade of the thousand songs
by peerless Kurukūr Caṭakōpaṉ
on the Lord who strode the Earth,
wins a life of praise from all.


O, How shall I address my Krishna, -as one worthy of worship? 
As peerless good Earth, or as the wide cool ocean?
Or as Fire, or wind or expansive Space? 
Or as the Sun, the Moon or the Universe pervading all?


O, How shall I address my Krishna?  I do not know;
as the many mountains, or as the good rains,
as the bright stars, or as poetry?
As the sentient soul, or as the Lord of lotus eyes?


Or shall I call him flawless Gem-Lord of lotus eyes? Or coral lips?
or Lord with radiant feet? or dark hued Lord of red radiant clown?
or bearer of discus and conch?,
or the one with Lakshmi-mole on his chest?


My faultless Lord was there, when all else was naught,
Shall I call him my flawless gem, or dazzling gold and pearls?
 or a brilliant diamond? or a lamp of eternal glory?
or radiant first-cause, the good first-person?


Shall I call him my blameless Achyuta, Great Lord?
or the ocean ambrosia, medicine for devotees ills?
or a candy sweet as, that, or the food of six tastes?
or sweet, or honey, or butter, or fruit, or milk?


Shall I call my Krishna, Lord of celestials or wonder-Lord?
or milk or the substance of the Vedas-tour?
or the truth of the scriptures? or music of the Upanishads?
or the fruit of great Karmas?, or more than any of these?


Shall I call him my gem-hued radiant Lord?
the Lord of celestials or their ecstatic enjoyments? or their ends?  
or endless wealth?, or the eternal heavens?, or timeless liberation?


Shall I call my Krishna a rare gem of radiance?
or crescent bearing Śiva?, or four-faced creator Brahma?
or the Lord worshipped by them?, or the Lord who made them?
My Lord of gladness and grace wears the nectarine Tulasī garland.


My Lord is in all things and all beings, and he is beyond understanding. 
He is Krishna, Lord who swallowed all and remade all in sport. 
He churned ambrosia from the ocean and gave it to the gods. 
He is Achyuta, Ananta, Govinda, reclining on a serpent couch.


He is beyond the senses, a body of consciousness. 
He is the form in all the things and life in all the beings
present at all times and all places yet apart from them all,
if you can attain detachment, you too can reach him.


This decade of the sweet thousand songs
by flower-grooved Kurukūr's Caṭakōpaṉ
addressing the Lord of Tulasī garland provides liberation
and the company of celestials to all who master it.


Pray tell, O People of the ocean-girdled Earth! 
What good are they who cannot sing and dance in joy,
the glories of the dark hued Lord
who saved the elephant from the jaws of the crocodile in the lotus tank?


Praising the Lord who gives woe to the mighty Asuras,
-fiends who mince and eat mortals on Earth,
-those who cannot sing on top throat and dance in ecstasy
must forever suffer the throes of Karmic birth.


Those who do not dance and touch the Earth with their heads,
repeatedly uttering the praises of the Lord,
-who stopped a hailstorm with a mountain,
-must forever suffer stormy hell as their only retreat.


Sing the praise of Śrīdhara of coral lips
who killed seven bulls for the love of Nappinnai.
Dance with hands over your heads, -dignity be blown,
-or else what use is this birth amid saintly men?


The Lord of the Vedas left his radiant Vaikuṇṭha
and came as a mortal to protect the innocent from Kaṁsa’s tyranny. 
Other than singing and dancing his praise through every street,
what is there for scholars to learn, are they men?


The birth less Lord who took birth reclines in the ocean. 
Sweet as fruit and nectar, sweet as sugar and honey and our ambrosia. 
He is the living, the non-living and all else. 
Those who praise him, with Song and dance, attain total knowledge.


The radiant Lord unleashed a terrible army
over the unfair hundred and granted victory to the five. 
Of what use are men in the good world who built up their biceps
if they do not melt their hearts, dance and sing and in joy?


Our Lord resides in Vēṅkaṭam of cool water springs. 
Rave his name incessantly, be called a mad man,
room through towns and hamlets, let the world mock at you,
Jump and dance in ecstasy, be worshipped by the celestials.


The Lord, worshipped by celestials, is Lord of all creation. 
Those who reach him through yogic penance,
find him in their hearts always. 
For all others, dancing and singing his praise is the only karma.


My Lord of gem hue and lotus eyes, the Lord of celestials,
is the Karmas, their fruit and their cause. 
Dance and sing with oneness of heart, melting inside you. 
Lose your pride and shame and rave his praise like mad.


This decade of the thousand songs, Achyuta,
Lord who corrects devotees and accepts them,
is by Caṭakōpaṉ of fertile Kurukūr fields,
Those who master it will win over their strong karmas.


Hear ye all about the Lord of lotus eyes, the sallower of the Universe! 
He became the effulgent knowledge,
through which he made the Earth the sky, men, gods, and all else. 
Then he also became the effulgent Lord-of-three-faces.


So praise the Lord of lotus eyes, redeemer of Karmas, 
He lies in the deep ocean, worshipped by the celestials. 
He is the Lord of Brahma, Śiva and Indra, he destroys our Karmas. 
He wielded a mighty bow and burnt Lanka to dust.


Set your heart on praising him relentlessly night and day,
the gem-hued Lord reclines on a serpent couch in the deep ocean. 
He is the effulgent Lord worshipped by the celestials,
he is the beautiful pot dancer who played Road with the Gopis!


When the great Indra himself, Brahma and Śiva too,
room about contemplating his radiant lotus feet,
what can a person of my nature say about the grace of the Lord? 
So let it be.


My Lord Krishna of dark hue, lotus eyes, dark locks and radiant crown
is the blowing wind, the sky and hard Earth.
He is the rolling ocean, the burning fire, the orbs and the gods. 
Mortals and the things everywhere are also him, the Lord of gods.


Through seven lies I have none but my Krishna, 
He is my smell and form and taste and sound and touch. 
The birthless, deathless, Lord with lotus eyes came as a big man-lion
and gave refuge to Prahlāda, the child-devotee of his feet.


Through seven lives my heart's nectar,
my soul's companion, my radiant lamp, my black gem, my pot-dancer,
he is the fruit enjoyed by the good celestials and sages. 
Worship him with a pure heart, your woes will instantly disappear.


He is the wicked karmas of pain and pleasure, he is beyond them too. 
He stands above as the effulgent Lord, he makes and swallows all the worlds. 
He is potent medicine against the agents of death. 
He came as Daśaratha’s son.  Other than him I have no refuge.


The Lord of radiant gods worshipped by Indra, Brahma and Śiva is Father,
Mother and self, yet apart from all. 
O People, do not fall into tear and confusion calling to this godling. 
My dark hued Lord takes the form that the heart seeks.


The ocean-hued Krishna, the black gem of the celestials, my very own soul,
is the radiant Lord reclining on a hooded serpent. 
He drove the chariot in war for the five against the hundred. 
O, when will these eyes of mine see his victorious feet!


This decade of the Pann-based thousand songs
by sweet-bowered Vaḻuti -land's Kurukūr Caṭakōpaṉ extol the invisible Lord. 
He is sweet to the heart. 
O, people, learn it and become his devotees!


The Lord of lotus eyes and effulgent form,
who is sweet to the heart, reclines in the ocean of milk. 
Those who worship him, -whoever they may be,
-are my masters, through seven lives, just see!


The discus-bearing Lord,
my gem-hued radiant Lord and master, has four mighty arms. 
Those who worship him with hands and feet
are my masters forever, just see!


My Lord of fragrant Tulasī wreath and golden discus
is Lord of the celestials and mortals. 
Those who serve his devotees are my masters,
through every blessed life, just see!


My Lord wears a necklace, waist belt and yellow robes,
a splendid golden thread a golden crown and many ornaments. 
Those who serve the servants of his devotees
are my masters through every life, just see!


My Lord came to the old of the celestials. 
He gave them ambrosia from the Ocean of Milk. 
Those who praise those who praise him,
are my masters through this and all my lives, just see!


My effulgent Lord of gem hue and nectarine Tulasī
has a discus in hand and protects all.
Those who bear him in their hearts
are my masters through every life, just see!


He comes to devotees' old through life after life. 
He gives them his nature and takes them unto his feet,
those who praise those who praise his eternal glory
shall be my trusted masters forever, just see!


The trusted Lord who bears Lakshmi
and the maker-of-the-worlds Brahma on his person
is incomprehensible even to the great celestials. 
Whoever praises him, even from the lowest kumbi hell,

is my master through every life, just see!


What though a person be of lowly birth,
-even a Chāṇḍāla of the lowly Chāṇḍālas,
-if he is a devotee of my discus-bearing gem-Lord,
his servant's servant shall be my master, just see!


My Lord swallowed the Earth and slept as a child
floating on a fig leaf in the deluge waters. 
The servant of his servant is my Master.


This decade of the thousand songs
on devotees of the Lord who aided the five against the hundred,
by Kurukūr city's Caṭakōpaṉ,
-those who can sing it will end Karmic life.


O Lord higher than the celestials, you churned the ocean! 
Lord of mountain hue, you bear the Garuda banner. 
Your feet are worshipped in the three worlds.
O My heart lies yearning for you.


O My refuge, living in the citadel of my heart! 
Lord who killed the Lanka king,
Lord who came as a manikin and took the Earth! 
My tongue incessantly praises you.


O Lord of celestials blessing this tongue with words! 
Protector of the cowherd-clan!
you ate butter by stealth in the hamlets of the Gopis,
then flashed a crescent-moon smile!
My hands forever yearn to feel you.


O Lord who lies reclining on a serpent couch!
I worship you with both hands, tirelessly,
My eyes crave to see your form
and keep you in their graze forever.


Vying with my craving eyes, my ears perk up in attention,
yearning to hear the sweet rustle of the wings of Garuda,
would he be bringing the Earth-Master Vāmana here.


O Lord who wields a golden discus! 
While my ears feed on songs of your praise with fruit-like words
dipped in the seasoned honey of music,
my soul tirelessly craves for your company.


O My Master, Ambrosia for my soul! 
I call you forever with grief in my heart. 
O Lord of radiant discus, come riding to me on your Garuda bird. 
Alas, wicked me!  You do not show you’re beautiful.


O My Lord of beautiful lotus eyes, and a hue dark as collyrium,
O Good one breaking my heart!
O Bearer of the past, present and future!
When, O when will I see you to fill me?


O Wicked Lord who begged three steps and took the Earth!
O Lord who destroyed Kamsa, and rides the Garuda bird!
O Lord who cut as under the thousand arms of Bāṇa!
When, O when, will I join you?


O Lord who entered between the two dense Maruta trees! 
Singing your praise with my songs,
I weep to see your lotus feet alone. 
Alas, how long must I remain here.


This decade of the well-made thousand songs
by wealthy Kurukūr city's Caṭakōpaṉ
addresses the Lord who measured the Earth. 
Those who sing it will ascend to Heaven.


Tis hard to say this but say it I must, so listen.
Since the Lord of bee-humming Vēṅkaṭam hill
is my Lord, my father and my mother,
I refuse to dedicate my sweet songs to anyone else.


What use singing the praise of these mortals
who hold themselves and their wealth in great esteem,
when the Lord of celestials, Krishna, my father,
resides in Kuṟuṅkuṭi surrounded by fertile fields?


O Poets of sweet heavenly excellence! 
When the Lord of the celestials, Our Lord is there
to show the way for all times,
you stop to sing a mortal's praise! Of what use is it?


O Poets who sing the glories of ephemeral man! 
How much do you get, and how long does it last? 
Praise the Lord of radiant crown. 
Making you his own, he will provide you for all times.


O Poets with mastery over words! 
You waste it in praising vile useless trash as great fortune! 
Come and praise the benevolent Lord-most-perfect. 
He shall provide for your needs without diminishing.


Come, Poets! Exercise your body and hands and live. 
Nobody is rich in this wide Earth, we have seen,
Let each praise his chosen god,
it will all reach my Tirumāl finally, the Lord of radiant crown.


The limitless Lord of great munificence bears a thousand names. 
He alone is worthy of my praise. 
I cannot utter blatant lies over mortals,
such as "Your arms are like mountains!", "Your hands are like rain clouds!"


The great Lord of limitless glories is the spouse
of Nappinnai with bamboo-slender arms. 
My heart longs to cast this body and reach his feet.
So how can I sing about a mortal man?


I was not born to sing in praise of mortal man. 
The generous discus-Lord of great virtues is my subject. 
He provides me for my life here and hereafter,
and even gives me charge of Indra's kingdom.


Considering the needs of all beings
that spend long days of journey in this body,
the Lord made many stations for sweet rest. 
Being his poet forever, how can I sing for anyone else?


This decade of the perfect thousand songs
by famous Kurukūr city's Caṭakōpaṉ
addressing Krishna, glorious Lord of the celestials,
gives freedom from rebirth to those who can sing it.


The Garuda-riding Lord with conch discus, bow, mace and dagger,
took many Avatāras in this fair world,
to rid the world of the clannish Asuras. 
I am fortune-favoured to praise him and lack nothing.


The Lord of radiant gem hue, my Krishna,
performs yoga on a serpent bed in the deep ocean with half-closed lotus eyes,
Riding the red-beaked Garuda, he came and destroyed many foes. 
Singing and dancing his praise, I am freed from want.


The Lord of the three worlds is sweet as a sugar-cube,
milk, fruit, honey, sugarcane, and ambrosia. 
He enjoys his creation endlessly at all times.
Becoming his devotee, I have not a care left. '


The left who rides the Garuda bird wields a golden discus. 
He fought many wars against the mighty Bāṇa,
to protect the good Śiva, Kumara and Agni,
Praising him, "O Achyuta, Hari, Gopāla", I have no despair.


With ease on the same day in the same moment
he drove the chariot with Arjuna and the Brahmin,
beyond all this and entered his glorious world,
and gave the Brahmin his son.  So I end despair and praise him.


Without the slightest blemish on his natural radiance
the Lord appeared in a mortal form on this wretched Earth,
performed many a mighty task, and established his divinity. 
Praising Krishna, the mountain of glory, I am freed of despair.


Through his many tricks of Māyā he made the Karmas,
-of pleasure and pain, -the worlds and the countless souls,
the lowly Hell and the sweet Heaven. 
All this in his cosmic Lila-play, so I end despair and praise him.


Krishna the doer of all, delights in the glances of Lakshmi,
Pure delight beyond measure, a spread of beautiful radiance,
Lord of boundless knowledge he is self-illumined. 
Praising his feet, I am freed of despair.


The Lord of Tulasī garland, a radiant form of total knowledge,
by his wondrous glory appears in many famous spots, and sports on Earth,
then swallows Śiva, Brahma and all else in a trice. 
Praising his feet, I have overcome despair.


The first-cause Lord of effulgent knowledge, pervader of all,
stands as a formless being unknown to the five senses. 
He is the radiant Krishna, effulgent icon, the orbs and the elements,
I have attained him, and overcome my pall.


This decade of the thousand songs
by Kurukūr Caṭakōpaṉ on the perfect Keśava,
praised by town and country, gives his glory
and grants liberation and world-sovereignty forever.