He is the fruit and the melody of the strummed strings;
He is the great God that fixed the dart wrought of the celestials To His Bow of Mountain and set ablaze the citadels Of the gruesome and fearsome Asuras;
He is the One that ate the venom of the billowy sea;
He is the great fruit of the renunciants Who are unaffected by the oeillades Of damsels whose locks are buzzed by bees;
He is of Perumpatra-p-Puliyur.
Unlived indeed are the days unspent in His praise.