Like a silkworm weaving
her house with love
from her marrow,
and dying
in her body's threads
winding tight, round
and round,
her house with love
from her marrow,
and dying
in her body's threads
winding tight, round
and round,
I burn
desiring what the heart desires.
Cut through. O lord,
my heart's greed,
and show me
your way out,
O lord white as jasmine.
-- Akka Mahādēvi [Translated by A. K. Ramanujan in the book - Speaking of Siva]
How can I feel right
about a god who eats up lacquer and melts,
who wilts when he sees fire?
How can I feel right
about gods you sell in your need,
and gods you bury for fear of thieves?
The lord of the meeting rivers,
self-born, one with himself;
he alone is the true god.
about a god who eats up lacquer and melts,
who wilts when he sees fire?
How can I feel right
about gods you sell in your need,
and gods you bury for fear of thieves?
The lord of the meeting rivers,
self-born, one with himself;
he alone is the true god.
-- BASAVAŅŅA [Translated by A. K. Ramanujan in the book - Speaking of Siva]
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