The mount Kailash, upon whose snowy height
a figure broods, inscrutable and still,
but charged with vibrant power that seems to fill
the universe with glory and light,
the eyes half closed, the body pure and bright
like to the sun which from the distant hill
its golden homage pays, as angels thrill
to gaze upon the grandeur of His might;
The matted locks wherefrom the Ganga flows
down to the earth, the chant of sacred hymns,
the trident and the drum adorn the snows,
the serpents twist and twine on ashen limbs;
He is the Lord who life and death bestows,
the Sea of Light in which the cosmos swims.

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