jataataveegalajjalapravaahapaavitasthale gale'valamby lambitaan bhujangatungamaalikaam. damaddamaddamaddamanninaadavaddamarvayan chakaar chandataandavan tanotu nah shivah shivam.
He who, wearing on a throat hallowed by the falling stream of Ganga from the forest of his matted hair a great hanging garland of serpents, danced the fierce tandava to the damaru's damad-damad — may that Shiva spread our good.
jataakataahasambhramabhramannilimpanirjharee-vilolaveechivallareeviraajamaanamoorddhani. dhagaddhagaddhagajjvalallalaatapattapaavake kishorachandrashekhare ratih pratikshanan mam.
On whose head the restless creeper-waves of the heavenly river toss in the whirling cauldron of his locks; on whose brow the fire burns dhagad-dhagad; who wears the young moon — in him be my love at every moment.
dharaadharendranandineevilaasabandhubandhur-sphuraddigantasantatipramodamaanamaanase. kripaakataakshadhoraneeniruddhadurdharaapadi kvachiddigambare mano vinodametu vastuni.
Whose mind delights to see every quarter lit by the ornament of the mountain king's daughter at her play; the hard turn of fortune held back by the flood of his merciful glance — in that sky-clad one let my mind take its joy.
jataabhujangapingalasphuratphanaamaniprabhaa-kadambakunkumadravapraliptadigvadhoomukhe. madaandhasindhurasphurattvaguttareeyamedure mano vinodamadbhutan bibhartu bhootabhartari.
The tawny light from the jewels on the hoods of the serpents in his hair lays saffron on the faces of the maidens that are the quarters; rich in the upper garment of the rutting elephant's hide — in that lord of beings let my mind take wondrous joy.
sahasralochanaprabhrityasheshalekhashekhar-prasoonadhoolidhoraneevidhoosaraanghripeethabhooh. bhujangaraajamaalayaa nibaddhajaatajootakah shriyai chiraay jaayataan chakorabandhushekharah.
The ground of whose footstool is grey with the pollen from the flowers on the heads of Indra and all the devtas; his matted hair bound with the serpent king's garland — may he who wears the chakora's friend bring me lasting fortune.
lalaatachatvarajvaladdhananjayasphulingabhaa-nipeetapanchasaayakan namannilimpanaayakam. sudhaamayookhalekhayaa viraajamaanashekharan mahaakapaali sampade shiro jataalamastu nah.
That matted head which burnt the five-arrowed one with the sparks of the fire blazing on the altar of its brow, before which the lord of the devtas bows, its crest bright with the nectar-rayed moon — may the great skull-bearer's head bring us wealth.
karaalabhaalapattikaadhagaddhagaddhagajjval-ddhananjayaahuteekritaprachandapanchasaayake. dharaadharendranandineekuchaagrachitrapatrak-prakalpanaikashilpini trilochane ratirmam.
Who offered the fierce five-arrowed one into the fire blazing dhagad-dhagad on the plate of his terrible brow; sole artist of the painted leaf-work on the breast of the mountain lord's daughter — in the three-eyed one be my love.
naveenameghamandaleeniruddhadurdharasphur-tkuhoonisheethineetamahprabandhabaddhakandharah. nilimpanirjhareedharastanotu krittisindhurah kalaanidhaanabandhurah shriyan jagaddhurandharah.
On whose neck is marked a darkness like the impenetrable spreading black of a new-moon midnight ringed with fresh cloud; wrapped in the elephant's hide, made lovely by the store of digits, bearer of the world's burden, holder of the heavenly river — may he spread my fortune.
praphullaneelapankajaprapanchakaalimaprabhaa-valambikanthakandaleeruchiprabaddhakandharam. smarachchhidan purachchhidan bhavachchhidan makhachchhidan gajachchhidaandhakachchhidan tamantakachchhidan bhaje.
Whose neck is graced by the mark whose beauty follows the dark radiance of a mass of open blue lotuses; cutter of Kama, of Tripura, of the world, of the sacrifice, of the elephant, of Andhaka, of Death — him I adore.
akharvasarvamangalaakalaakadambamanjaree-rasapravaahamaadhureevijrimbhanaamadhuvratam. smaraantakan puraantakan bhavaantakan makhaantakan gajaantakaandhakaantakan tamantakaantakan bhaje.
The bee that drinks the swelling sweetness from the nectar-stream of the kadamba spray that is the art of all-auspicious Parvati; ender of Kama, of Tripura, of the world, of the sacrifice, of the elephant, of Andhaka, of Death itself — him I adore.
jayatvadabhravibhramabhramadbhujangamashvas-dvinirgamatkramasphuratkaraalabhaalahavyavaat. dhimiddhimiddhimiddhvananmridangatungamangal-dhvanikramapravartitaprachandataandavah shivah.
Victory to Shiva, on whose brow the terrible fire spreads and leaps as the serpents whirling in his wild play hiss it out; whose fierce tandava moves to the grave auspicious beat of the mridanga sounding dhimi-dhimi.
drishadvichitratalpayorbhujangamauktikasrajo-rgarishtharatnaloshthayoh suhridvipakshapakshayoh. trinaaravindachakshushoh prajaamaheemahendrayoh samapravrittikah kadaa sadaashivan bhajaamyaham.
When, holding stone and fine bed alike, the serpent and the pearl string alike, the costly jewel and the clod, friend and foe, a blade of grass and a lotus-eyed girl, the common people and the great king of the earth — when shall I adore Sadashiva?
kadaa nilimpanirjhareenikunjakotare vasan vimuktadurmatih sadaa shirahsthamanjalin vahan. vilolalolalochano lalaamabhaalalagnakah shiveti mantramuchcharan kadaa sukhee bhavaamyaham.
Dwelling in a hollow of the thicket by the heavenly river, freed of ill thought, hands always joined above my head, my restless eyes brimming, fixed on the fair-browed one, saying the mantra 'Shiva' — when shall I be happy?
nilimpanaathanaagareekadambamaulamallikaa-nigumphanirbharaksharanmadhooshnikaamanoharah. tanotu no manomudan vinodineemaharnishan parashriyah paran padan tadangajatvishaan chayah.
May the radiance of Shiv ji's body — lovely with the honey that drips from the jasmine woven in the hair of the women of Indra's city — the highest seat of all splendour, delight our minds day and night.
prachandavaadavaanalaprabhaashubhaprachaaranee mahaashtasiddhikaamineejanaa'vahootajalpanaa. vimuktavaamalochanaavivaahakaalikadhvanih shiveti mantrabhooshanaa jagajjayaay jaayataam.
May the sound "Shiva", adorned by the mantra — auspicious as the blaze of the undersea fire that burns away sin, called out by the women who are the eight great siddhis, the cry raised at the wedding of the doe-eyed Parvati Maa — be for the victory of the world.
iman hi nityamevamuktamuttamottaman stavan pathansmaranbruvannaro vishuddhimeti santatam. hare gurau subhaktimaashu yaati naanyathaa gatin vimohanan hi dehinaan sushankarasy chintanam.
The one who daily reads, recalls and tells this highest of praises as it is spoken here stays always pure, and swiftly comes to good love for Hara the guru; he does not go the contrary way, for right thought of Shankar undoes the delusion of embodied beings.
poojaavasaanasamaye dashavaktrageetan yah shambhupoojanaparan pathati pradoshe. tasy sthiraan rathagajendraturangayuktaan lakshmeen sadaiv sumukheen pradadaati shambhuh.
Whoever at the close of the evening puja reads this song of the ten-faced one, given to Shambhu's worship, to him Shambhu gives lasting, kindly fortune — with chariots, elephants and horses.