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,
He comes not, alas! who can save my soul now?
A ghastly pail engulfs the sea, earth and sky
Stretching into one sinister night.
My golden hued Lord does not come, alas!
O sinful heart, you too are not with me: who can save me anymore?
See, you are not with me, O heart!
The long night stretches into an aeon.
My Kakutstha wielding the scorching bow does not come.
Sinner, born as a female, I know not how to end my life.
The radiant sun too has hid himself,
Unable to bear the sight of a maiden in distress.
My black bull, Lord with large eyes and red lips
Does not come; who can cure my love-sickness?
Who enquires of me My mother and my sakhis
Sleep through the night never asking what happened,
My dark hued Lord 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,
Mt discus Lord eternal too does not come.
who on earth can save this soul?
The sky is filled with dense powered pitch.
The long night stretches like an aeon.
The lord of spotless conch and discuss does not appear.
Yea gods! what shall I do? My acts are wicked as fire.
A single night stretches into seven aeons, ye gods!
Hanging over my person and thinning my soul.
Alas my Lord with discus 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, alsas,
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
Passing into fine droplets into the night.
The world sleeps tight, alas, not once saying:
The Lord who measured the earth then shall not come.
This decad of the colourful radiant andadi of thousand songs
By Satakopan of Kurugur surrounded by excellent groves,
Is addressed to the Lord who did yoga like one sleeping:
Singing this will secure heaven after death.
The waters have calmed, night stretches into eternity.
The Lord who swallowed the earth sleeps on a serpent couch,
He comes not, alas! who can save my soul now?
A ghastly pail engulfs the sea, earth and sky
Stretching into one sinister night.
My golden hued Lord does not come, alas!
O sinful heart, you too are not with me: who can save me anymore?
See, you are not with me, O heart!
The long night stretches into an aeon.
My Kakutstha wielding the scorching bow does not come.
Sinner, born as a female, I know not how to end my life.
The radiant sun too has hid himself,
Unable to bear the sight of a maiden in distress.
My black bull, Lord with large eyes and red lips
Does not come; who can cure my love-sickness?
Who enquires of me My mother and my sakhis
Sleep through the night never asking what happened,
My dark hued Lord 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,
Mt discus Lord eternal too does not come.
who on earth can save this soul?
The sky is filled with dense powered pitch.
The long night stretches like an aeon.
The lord of spotless conch and discuss does not appear.
Yea gods! what shall I do? My acts are wicked as fire.
A single night stretches into seven aeons, ye gods!
Hanging over my person and thinning my soul.
Alas my Lord with discus 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, alsas,
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
Passing into fine droplets into the night.
The world sleeps tight, alas, not once saying:
The Lord who measured the earth then shall not come.
This decad of the colourful radiant andadi of thousand songs
By Satakopan of Kurugur surrounded by excellent groves,
Is addressed to the Lord who did yoga like one sleeping:
Singing this will secure heaven after death.
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