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Prayer to Lord Shiva

1. O Lord! What boons can you give me,
Thyself being a pauper with a begging bowl,
Going from house to house to beg your daily food;
Seeing Thee at a distance, each cries Lo! our food is finished.
With depicted misery and hunger writ on your face,
You walk and wend your weary way in this
wealthy world,
With none to feed you or your family,
How can I expect gifts from one so low and abject?

2. Whenever I come to Thee for offering my praises,
The bull in front nods its horns to plunge them in me,
The venomous snake hissing fire keeps me away,
The Ganges at the top, sprouts its coldest driblets on me,
The filthy smell of bones and sharp Trisul
turn me out sick with fear,
The tiger and elephant skins bespeak your forest-life,
Who will come and praise Thee as their Lord God
And sing Thy glories of which you have none?

3. People have sung of Thine extreme feebleness
That one gave a hit on your back with his bow-stick,
Another used his cane with unerring aim on your limbs,
A third kicked you with his sandal-decked foot,
A fourth hit you with stones from a distance,
All these were emboldened in their acts of scant respect.
Because Thou hast neither father nor mother
Who will come to your rescue and punish the slighters?

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