Shivashankar, hey the Auspicious One,
Seed of the world, Master, storehouse of compassion,
Like a silver mountain is Candrashekhar,
A gem resplendent, welfare's source.
You've a battle-axe in hand, with aim to bless and rid fear;
E'er I prostrate before Thee, kindly take pity on me.
May You be pleased, hey the Perception of Intention,
Clad in tiger-skin and wielding bow thunderous.
Established in the principle of social equality,
Your sea of attributes, by scripture it is not revealed.
Particles of dust from Your feet, please give to me;
Transcendental and primordial, undaunted Lord.
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Absent Shiva there's no path of bliss.
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