Tiruvāymoḷi of Nammāḷvār | Book 5


Śrīmate Rāmāṉujāya nama:
Tiruvāymoḻi aintām pattu


Fifth Centum-First Decade


Uttering, "Holder of bright discus!",
"My gem-hued Lord!", and many such shallow praises,
I roamed and danced, and attained the truth,
who can prevent what fortune favours?
My Lord, Krishna, if you leave me now, will I let you go?


I only spoke false worlds like, "Oh, you entered the Marudu trees!",
"My uncut Gem!", My ambrosia, sweet as honey!",
Lo, my Lord himself has become me.
The sky and Earth and all else are within me!


I uttered in lip-service,-while inside was something else,
-a few lines like "Benevolent Lord, Gem-hued Lord" and such words.
Shedding my deceiving nature, I have seen you, and found liberation.
O Lord reclining in the ocean, now what other refuge do I have?


Though I say words like, "What other refuge do I have", -the rogue that I am,
-I have not the power to wean my soul from the world,
nor strengthen my heart, nor dry my tears, and move closer to you.
My Krishna, rid me of my dross and call me unto you.


O Krishna, Lord-of-celestials, dark-gem, ambrosia! 
delight I have reached you, yet not attained you;
between us you have placed a body,
tied me to it securely with strong cords of karma,
plastered the wound neatly,
and cast me out into this deceptive wide world.


O Dark-hued Lord, you have embraced me all over! 
My strong karmas of repeated miserable births have ceased.
I have seen to my satisfaction your four radiant arms. 
Your red lips and lotus eyes, and the discus of cause-effect in your hands.


The Lord of discus, the over Lord, "Where does he belong, who am I?
Simply, calling, "Saviour of the elephant" with hands my over head,
I have become his true lover; he too has become mine.
However strong the karma, when his grace comes, it shall come, just see!


the Lord worshipped by celestials and monarchs
has come this day and occupied my lowly heart. 
Henceforth he is my Mother, my father, my Children,
my wealth, my fish-eyed women and all else.


Like a ship caught in stormy ocean signalling in distress,
I stood shivering in the ocean-of-birth and called.
With exceeding grace and divinity, he heard me and came to me,
with a conch and discus in hand and became one with me.


Seeing that he had a faithful servant in me, he came elated. 
By his own sweet grace, he became one with me.
The dark Lord who come as the fish, the turtle, the man-lion,
the manikin and the wild boar, shall come again as Kalki too, just see!


This decade of the thousand pure Tamil songs,
by Caṭakōpaṉ of Kurukūr surrounded by bullock-ploughed fields,
addresses the dark hued Lord of lotus-red eyes. 
Those who sing it shall rise and attain his lotus feet.


Hail! Hail! Hail!, gone is the curse of existence.
Hell has relented, Yama has no work here anymore,
even Kāli shall end, just see! 
The ocean-hued Lord's spirits have descended on Earth in hordes.
We have seen them singing and dancing everywhere


We have seen sights that are sweet to the eyes, yes we have, yes we have!
Come devotees, offer worship, praise and shout in joy. 
The spirits of the Tulasī-wreathed Mādhava are roaming the Earth.
They are seen standing, singing hymns and dancing everywhere.


The rolling age of Kāli is ending, the gods have also entered.
The golden age of Krita is beginning, and joy is flooding the land.
The spirits of my ocean-hued Lord have come singing songs. 
They cramp the Earth and occupy every nook.


All the heretic schools of thought are being cleared like weeds. 
The spirits of our mighty ocean-reclining Lord are singing many, many songs.
While –lying, sitting, standing, walking, flying and dancing,
they are performing miraculous plays.


The Lord's spirits have miraculously entered the Earth. 
They stand everywhere, their acts alone occupy my vision. 
Have no doubt, Devotees, if there are Asuras and Rākṣasas among you,
there is no escape; their days will end in death.


The discus-Lord's devotees have come to stay,
to rid the world of soul-consuming disease, war, hunger and evil.
They have spread everywhere, singing in mirth and dancing in ecstasy,
Cease thought, Devotees! Go, worship them and be saved.


Know that your fond gods can save you only through His grace;
Mārkaṇḍeya is proof. Have no doubt, there is no god other than Krishna,
All that exists are his forms, so worship him alone.


He is the Lord of gods, himself becoming the gods in the entire world. 
It is he who accepts the offering you make to your gods. 
The spirits of the mole-chested Lord have filled the Earth singing songs.
So shed hatred, cultivate love; offer worship and liberate yourselves.


The world has become filled with devotees
and holy men who lovingly worship Achyuta,
unfailing in the path of knowledge, with blossomed flowers,
incense, lamp, Sandal, water and Vedic Mantras.
Devotees, you too join in loving worship, and liberate yourselves.


In all the great worlds, all the dense hordes of gods,
even Śiva, Brahma, Indra and others stand and worship Krishna,
Devotees, if you can join them in loving worship,
there shall be nothing of the age of Kāli.


This decade of the famous thousand songs,
sung by Karimaran Caṭakōpaṉ of Kurukūr surrounded by happy fields,
addressed to the wonder-Lord, the radiant Krishna, destroyer of Kali,
will cleanse devotees' hearts.


Sister, I sought my ever-radiant faultless First-Lord,
my red-lipped spotless mountain-gem. 
How long ago I-became impassioned and slipped into madness! 
What harm can the world's slander do now?


Sister! My red-lotus-eyed Lord has possessed me. 
I have lost the red in my cheeks, my frame has waned,
my red lips and dark eyes have lost their colour. 
Now what can the world's gossip do to us?


Sister! The red-lipped Lord who sucked the life out of Pūtanā’s breasts
and smote the laden cart with his foot has possessed me. 
Night and day I prate of nothing save him. W
hat can the world's gossip do to us?


Sister! The dark-cloud Lord planted seeds of love in my heart. 
The world's gossip made good manure;
my Mother's words poured water over the fields. 
Now my passion swells like the sea. Tell me, is our Krishna mean?


O Sister! You have a slender waist, but a frail heart! 
May be the Lord is selfish, wicked and tar away. 
May be he is a world-grabber and hard to understand. 
Pity, my wicked heart still longs for him alone, what can Mother do?


Sister!  Whatever Mother may do, whatever the world may say,
henceforth expect no love from me. 
For, I am caught in the drag-net of my gem-hued Lord Vāsudeva. 
King of Dvārakā, the ancient Lord of celestials.


The Lord who caught me in his dragnet
and called my good heart unto him,
reclines in the deep ocean with a discus in hand. 
O Sister, with broad jewelled hips!
Will we ever see him with our eyes,
and worship him in the presence of these fair ladies?


The Lord drank the ogress' breasts, smote the cart,
went between the Marudu trees, ripped the bird's beak,
and killed the rutted elephant. 
He has a pearly smile and coral lips.
O, when will we reach him and put these ladies to shame?


The Lord stole my shame and called my heart unto him.
He resides with celestials in high heaven. 
By him, I swear, let the world heap slander, acting unbridled,
I shall ride the Palmyra stalk and commit the Mādaḷ.


After we have ridden the Palymyra stalk through every street,
-without feminine grace, making women speak unspeakable slander,
while the world raves, -we shall wear the Tulasī flowers
from the discus Lord to soothe us.


This decade of the replete Andadi of thousand songs,
by Caṭakōpaṉ of fragrant bowered Kurukūr,
is addressed to Krishna, dark as the roaring seas.
Those who sing it will find Vaikuṇṭha wherever they live.


The populace sleeps, the world is pitch-darkness, the waters have calmed. 
Night stretches into eternity. 
The Lord who swallowed the Earth sleeps on a serpent couch. 
Alas, he does not come, who can save my sinful soul now?


A ghastly pall engulfs the Earth, sea and sky, stretching into one sinister night. 
My golden hued Krishna does not come, alas!
O sinful heart, you too are not with me; who can save me now?


See, you are not with me, O Heart
The long night stretches into an aeon. 
My Kākutstha Lord wielding the scorching bow does not come. 
Sinner, born as a female, I know not how to end my life.


Even the radiant Sun has hidden himself,
unable to bear the sight of a maiden in distress. 
My black bull, the Lord with large eyes and red lips does not come. 
Alas, who can cure my love-sickness?


Who inquires of me? My Mother and my Sakhis sleep through the night,
never asking what happened, My dark-hued Krishna too does not come. 
Wicked me, my name will tell tales and not let me die!


An incurable love-sickness torments my soul.
An aeon of darkness hangs over my sunken eyes.
My discus-Lord-eternal too does not come.
Who on Earth can save this soul?


The sky is densely packed with powdered pitch. 
The long night stretches like an aeon. 
The Lord of spotless conch and discus does not appear. 
Yea gods! What shall I do?  My acts are wicked as fire!


Yea gods! A single night stretches into seven aeons,
hanging over my person and thinning my soul,
Alas! My Krishna-with-discuss does not come. 
The cool spring-breeze scorches like fire; what shall I do?


Darkness packed with fine pitch scorches like fire. 
The beautiful tall chariot of the Sun does not appear, alas.
The wealthy Lord of lotus eyes too does not come,
alas, who can cure my heart's malady? Alas, I stand and melt.


Like me, the wide sky too melts pouring as fine droplets into the night,
The world sleeps tight, alas, not once saying;
The Lord who measured the Earth then shall not come.


This decade of the colourful radiant Andadi of thousand songs
by Caṭakōpaṉ of Kurukūr surrounded by excellent groves,
is addressed to the Lord who did yoga like one sleeping,
singing this will secure Heaven after death.


After seeing the beautiful Lord of Tirukkuruṅkuṭi,
my heart yearns for his conch and his discus,
his lotus eyes, and his peerless coral lips. 
How now, Ladies, that you blame me?


Look through my heart's eyes; do not blame me,
After I saw the Lord in Palm-grooved Tirukkuruṅkuṭi,
his sacred thread, ear ornaments, mole-chest, beautiful jewels
and four arms appear before me everywhere.


Mother, you blame me saying, "She stands, she falters, she swoons",
Ever since I saw the Lord in fall-mansioned Tirukkuruṅkuṭi,
his victorious bow, mace, dagger, discus and conch
appear before me everywhere, never leaving my eyes and heart.


Mother, you blame me for the tears that swell in my eyes endlessly.
After I saw the Lord of nectar-groved Tirukkuruṅkuṭi,
his beautiful garland of Tulasī flowers, his golden crown,
his face, his silken threads and belt haunt my wretched self.


Mother, you blame me saying, "She stands and stares, she swoons".
After I saw the Lord of great fame in Tirukkuruṅkuṭi,
his glowing coral lips, his long eyebrows,
and his perfect lotus eyes have possessed my wretched soul!


After I saw the Lord of cool-grooved Tirukkuruṅkuṭi,
his beautiful slender nose, his lotus eyes, his coral lips,
his blue frame, and his four shoulders, have filled my heart.  
My mother lets no one see me saying,
"She will bring further blame to our fair name!".


After I saw the Lord of great fame in Tirukkuruṅkuṭi,
his beautiful golden form of exceeding radiance has filled my heart. 
He appears everywhere wielding a discus in the beautiful hand. 
My mother says, "She is a great scourge on our fair house-hold".


Ladies, you blame me saying,
"She buries her face in her hands, she swoons". 
Ever since I saw the Lord in Tirukkuruṅkuṭi surrounded by fallen houses,
his red lotus eyes, hips, slender waist, face long dark tresses,
and broad shoulders appear before my sinful self.


Ladies! Sisters! you blame me saying, "You are a disgrace"
After I saw the Lord of Tirukkuruṅkuṭi,
-sweet as milk and sugar,-surrounded by strongly built houses,
his tall crown and his countless jewels never leave my heart.


My mother let no one see me, saying,
"She is growing amorous day by day".
After seeing the Lord of abiding fame in Tirukkuruṅkuṭi,
a radiant form of flooding effulgence,
appears in my heart worshipped by hordes of celestials,
hard for anyone's understanding.


This decade of the thousand well-known songs,
by fair Kurukūr's Caṭakōpaṉ on the Lord of Tirukkuruṅkuṭi,
the incomprehensible discus bearer, is sung with flowers. 
Those who sing it with understanding will unite with Vishnu while on Earth.


My daughter roams the Earth reciting;
"I made this Earth: I am the Earth and the ocean;
it was I who took the Earth; it was I who lifted the Earth:
it was i who swallowed the Earth".
Has the Lord of the Earth and ocean possessed her? 
O People of the Earth, how can I make you understand?


My daughter recites, "I am beyond the boundaries of knowledge,
I am that knowledge, I generate that knowledge, Has the knowledge –
Lord descended on her? O knowledgeable people, what can I say?


The things my possessed daughter does!
She says, "All the Earth is me! All the sky is me,
all the fire is me, all the air is me, all the ocean is me!"
Has the all-seeing Lord entered her?
O Witnesses of the world, what shall I say?


The things my red-lipped daughter says!
"All that is being done is me; all that remains undone is me;
all that has been done is also me.
I enjoy the fruit of all action; motivation too is me". 
Has the lotus-eyed Lord possessed her?
O Fair people of the world, what can I say?


My daughter says, "Unfailingly I rule over the Earth!
Then showing my might, unfailingly, I lifted the mountain,
killed the Asuras, and protected the five! 
The ocean too was churned by me!". 
Has the ocean-hued Lord taken her? 
O Severe people of the world, what can I say?


My Vel-eyed daughter prates, "I am the chief of the cowherd- clan. 
It was I who grazed the calves, it was I who lifted the mountain,
it was I who protected the cows, it was I who killed the seven bulls!" 
Has the Lord of celestials possessed her? O severe people, what can I say?


The things my found daughter prates! "I have no friends", she says,
then, "All here are my friends', and,
"It is I who make bonds, It is I who break bonds;
even the bond between friends is me"
Has the peerless lord possessed her? 
O Friendly people of the world, what can I say?


The things my tender sapling says! "Speak ye of the three-eyed Lord?
He is me; the four-headed Lord is me, the celestials too are me,
The Lord of celestials is me; the sages too are but me"
Has the cloud-hued Lord taken her?
O Talkative people of the world, what can I say?


My tender daughter wickedly prates, I have no wickedness of any kind
and then "I am the wickedness of deeds, I am the redeemer of wickedness,
I am the doer of wicked deeds, I am the destroyer of wicked Lanka",
Has the Garuda-riding Lord gotten her? 
O wicked people of the world, what can I say?


My beautiful coiffured daughter raves,
"Beautiful heaven is me.  The ugly hell too is me;
the effulgent liberation is me; the beautiful souls are all me,
the beautiful first-cause too is me". 
Has the cloud-hued Lord taken her? 
O Beautiful people of the world, what can I say?


This decade of the garland of thousand choicest Tamil songs
by Caṭakōpaṉ of fertile Vaḻuti-Pandya kingdom Kurukūr
addresses the Lord who is the consort of Śrī, Bhū, and Nīla. 
Those who can sing it will serve his devotees with great wealth,


O Lord who resides in fertile Cirīvaramaṅkalanakar
where red lotus and paddy abound,
I have not done penances, I have no subtle intelligence,
yet no more can I bear to be separated from you even for a moment. 
Am I one too many for you there?


O Lord who destroyed Lanka, I am neither here nor here. 
Fallen in the desire to see you, I stand nowhere. 
O Lord of discus and conch residing in Cirīvaramaṅkalanakar,
-where the moon caresses fall mansions, -pray grace this forlorn self.


O Dark-hued Lord of Vaikuṇṭha with the discus and a Garuda-banner,
you made a person of this insignificant self, and took me into your service.  
O Lord of Cirīvaramaṅkalanakar, where many learned Vedic seers live,
you have graced me from there, I know not how to repay you!


O Lord who lifted the Earth! Then you fought a battle
for the five Pāṇḍavas against the Kaurāvas and reduced the foes to ashes;
you have come to reside in Cirīvaramaṅkalanakar
amid learned seers who perform Vedic- sacrifices incessantly;
I only call to join you there.


O Dark-hued Lord who enters into every bit and parcel,
and performs many magical acts, is it possible for me to call you? 
O Lord of Cirīvaramaṅkalanakar where godly men perform Vedic Sacrifices,
you are accessible to worship, I have seen this too.


O, Dark effulgent Vaikuṇṭha Lord who came as a boar!
My Father, my Krishna, ever my Master of the great-heavenly-hill Vanamalai
worshipped by the folk of Cirīvaramaṅkalanakar amid sweet mango groves!
Pray come to me, that I too may worship you!


O Lord of celestials, through grace, you have entered my heart,
O Lord of eternal glory, First-cause of the Universe, 
Father, Mother, Swallower-of-the-seven-worlds. 
O Resident of Cirīvaramaṅkalanakar,
where godly men perform Vedic sacrifice endlessly,
pray do not forsake me!


These wicked illusion-casting senses that you gave
will forsake me one day, I know them well. 
Even you have forsaken me and dumped me into a quagmire, just see!
O Resident of Cirīvaramaṅkalanakar where fall mansions shine,
Lord who ripped the bird's break, you are hard to reach.


O Lord who ripped the bird's break,
entered the Marudu trees, and killed the seven bulls,
my wicked wonder-Lord of gem-hue radiance! 
Many clear-minded seers, well-versed in the Vedas,
live in cool Cirīvaramaṅkalanakar, My Lord living in their midst! 
Pray show me the path to liberation.


Lord celestial, wearing a cool fragrant Tulasī wreath!
Resident of cool Cirīvaramaṅkalanakar where sugarcane and paddy grow fall! 
You have given me your feet as my sole refuge and path. 
I have nothing to give in return, -my soul too is yours!


This decade of the thousand on the Lord of Cirīvaramaṅkalanakar,
by Caṭakōpaṉ of Kurukūr surrounded by groves of happy flowers,
addresses the feet of Nārāyaṇa, Trivikrama.
Those who can sing it will forever be sweet as ambrosia to the celestials.


Insatiable ambrosia! First Lord! My body melts in love for you. 
You make me weep and toss like restless water.
I see your resplendent form in Tirukuṭantai,
reclining amid fertile waters, fanned by whisks of golden paddy.


My Lord, My Ruler, my pure icon,
my beautiful black Bull you take any form at will. 
You recline amid Tirukuṭantai waters filled with large lotuses,
your dreamy eyes liken those flowers!  O what can I do?


What can I do? What are you doing to me? Who else can protect me?
O Lord reclining in Kuṭantai surrounded by stone walls,
I seek no redress with anyone save you;
pray see that I lead the remaining days of my life holding on to your feet.


O Lord of glory exceeding the grasp of ever-learning seers!
Infinite Lord, your frame contains all the worlds. 
O Lord reclining in Kuṭantai surrounded by men of exceeding goodness! 
Desirous of seeing you, I look at the sky disturbed, then weep and pray.


I weep and pray, I dance and sing, and praise you forever,
I look away and hang my head in shame for my deeds. 
O Lotus-eyes Lord reclining in fertile Kuṭantai fields,
pray show this repentant self the way to your lotus feet.


O Lord of celestials reclining in Kuṭantai surrounded by men of everlasting glory!
O Music of the Yal-harp! Ambrosial delight, fruit-of-knowledge!
O King-of-lions, Rid me of my Karmas and find a way, you must,
I long to reach you, how long must I remain here filling a bottomless pit?


O King-of-lions, golden radiance, red-eyed cloud-hued Lord!
O Dazzling coral-mountain, my Lord of four arms, Lord in Kuṭantai!
Through your grace, you made me your bonded serf.
Now give me your protection and rid me of my birth. No more I can bear this.


O Great wonder-Lord reclining in Kuṭantai armed with a sharp discus,
whether you end my despair or not, you are my sole refuge,
When my body languishers and this life comes to an end,
grant that I may hold on to your feet relentlessly.


O Lord sweetly binding me to your feet! O Kind of the motionless gods!
O Lord reclining in Kuṭantai amid sparkling gems!
O Great first cause! O Lord praised by all the worlds!
Pray come, that I may see you.


O Formless Lord that takes wonderful forms of will insatiable ambrosia,
Delight of my heart, resident of Kuṭantai you are my protector,
ending all my endless karmas. 
Having become your servant, must I still suffer?


This decade of the thousand songs, sweeter than flute melody,
is sung by Kurukūr Caṭakōpaṉ who found refuge at the feet of Krishna,
-who drank the ogress's breasts and dried her life to the bones.
Those who can sing it flawlessly will be adored by fawn-eyed dames.


O Fawn-eyed friends, this wretched self wanes day by day. 
The Lord resides in Tiruvalluvar,
where Areca trees touch the sky, inner area fragrance –
wafting jasmine gardens and honey-dripping fruit orchards. 
Alas!  When will this devotee-self reach the Lord's feet?


O Sakhis, why do you torment me thus? 
The Lord stands Tiruvalluvar
where the soft breeze wafts the fragrance
of fresh golden Punnai, Magil and Mādhavī flowers. 
Alas!  when will he carry the dust of his feet on our heads?


O Flower-coiffured Sakhis! Woe is me, I have become thin.
The Lord resides in cool Tiruvalluvar
amid fragrant smoke that rises from the Vedic altar,
where saman chants rise like the roaring sea. 
Alas! when will I see his feet without interruption?


O Sakhis! Why do you hurt me thus endlessly? 
The Lord who reclines on a hooded snake
stands in Tiruvalluvar amid fall mansions
nestling in the bowers of Betel and Areca, jackfruit, coconut and plantation. 
His well-being alone is our good.


O Good-natured Sakhis!
The smoke from the good Vedic seers' sacrifices
clouds the sky in Tiruvalluvar,
Our Lord, -that sweet ambrosia, that fruit, that sugar-candy,
-has stolen my well-being. 
Alas!  When will my eyes see his radiant form?


O Berry-lipped Sakhis! This Lord who came as a beautiful manikin
resides in fertile Tiruvalluvar, where trees grow in dense groves
blowing fresh breeze and bees made music like harp strings. 
Alas! When will this unfortunate self see his blossomed lotus-feet?


God’s Sakhis!  The Lord, our master who swallowed the Universe,
resides in Tiruvalluvar, where water-lily and lotus grow tall in large water tanks,
and reach the radiant eyes and faces of the women-folk,
Alas! When will I worship his feet with flowers every day?


O Radiant-forehead Sakhis!  The Lord who strode the Earth
resides in Tiruvalluvar amid marshy fields abounding in flowers
where sugarcane sways sweetly and golden paddy ripens filling the Quarters. 
Alas, when will worship his feet every day without end?


The Lord of abiding grace wielding a spinning discus
resides in Tiruvalluvar amid cool groves,
where young bumble bees drink nectar and hum like the flute. 
When will I worship his form and wear my slipped bangles again?


O Sakhis! Our Lord is praised high by many thousands of devotees. 
The Earth and Heaven know the abiding grace of Nārāyaṇa
residing in the good city of Tiruvalluvar. 
When will it be our fortune to chant his names with love?


This decade of the thousand songs, on peaceful Tiruvalluvar
sung by Kurukūr Caṭakōpaṉ with knowledge and understanding,
addresses the Lord of thousand names.
Those who can sing it will excel in this world.


The wonders of your birth, your childhood, and your exploits
in the great Bharata war, showing your strength to the five Pāṇḍavas,
 -these haunt my heart again and again and consume my soul. 
O Effulgent Lord, most high, when will I join you?


Your killing the bulls for Nappinnai's hand,
ripping the jaws of the monstrous horse,
your Rasa-play with sweet coiffured Gopis,
-these are hard to describe as thus and thus, your many acts thin me. 
O First-cause of the Universe, when will I join you?


Your radiance as an infant sucking Pūtanā’s poisoned breasts,
your valour as a child destroying the cart with you lotus-feet,
then you’re standing in fear with tears in your eyes,
-when your mother took the stick on hearing that you stole butter,
-these melt my heart.


The mat-haired Śiva entering stealthily into the cities of Asuras disguised,
striking terror in their hearts, destroying them by the score,
then entering into your person indistinguishably,
-these enter my heart, melt and drink soul!


Your wonderful acts, of gulping the food-offerings kept for Indra,
then holding aloft the mountain to stop the angry rains,
you’re creating the worlds, then swallowing and bringing them out,
your measuring the Earth, your marrying Dame-Earth,
-all these melt my heart like wax in fire.


Countless are your visible and invisible wondrous deeds!
O Lord, in standing, in sitting, and in reclining postures
I think and think, yet cannot ever comprehend you.
O Radiant one who swallowed the Earth, show this sinner a way.


I faint at the thought of the things you do to me,
-standing as radiance amid darkness and truth amid untruth,
My Gem-hued Lord! Grace your presence just one day,
that I may drink deeply with my eyes, and fill myself with your form.


Whenever I hear about your beautiful reclining form,
about the red lotus-navel with Brahma seated on it,
about your entering the wombs in your great acts of creation,
and your peerless domain over all,
my heart melts and tears food my eyes.  O what can I do?


Whenever I hear of how you begged for three strides of land
then grew and took the Earth and sky and ocean in two strides
and how you achieved your ends, my heart melts for you alone. 
O This wicked karmic self, when will I ever join you?


The way you joined in the churning of the ocean for ambrosia,
the tricks you played to help the gods leaving out the Asuras,
-these enter my heart and melt my soul. 
O Lord on the poisonous snake-couch, tell me how I may seek you.


This decade of the Andadi of thousand songs
by Kurukūr Caṭakōpaṉ, worshipping everyday with single mind
the feet of the serpent-couch, Lord as sole refuge,
-those who can sing it will enjoy high Vaikuṇṭha forever.