Five Hymns to Arunachala

Oh Lord, in the form of the hill
You are the remedy for the endless chain of births
For me your feet alone are the refuge
Your duty it is to remove my mother's suffering and govern her.

Oh Conqueror of Time
Your Lotus feet are my refuge
Let them protect my mother from death
What is death if scrutinized?

Arunachala, blazing fire of knowledge
Burn away the dross
Absorb my sweet mother in you
What need would there be, then, for cremation?

Arunachala, dispeller of Maya's veil,
Why then the delay in curing my mother's delirium?

Oh Mother, of those who seek refuge in you
Is there a better shield than you from fate's blows?