The Idol's Awakening

Hail to Thee, treasure rare,
Source of all prosperity,
Dawn has come, at Thy feet,
Flowers themselves, fair flowers lay we.
Praising Thee, we await
Smiles that blossom fair and sweet
In Thy face, as we fall
Prone adoring at Thy feet.

Śiva, Lord, dweller in
Perunduṛai, where expand
Lotus flowers, petalled white,
In the cool moist pasture land,
Thou whose flag is the bull,
Thou the Lord of all my ways,
Now O Lord of us all,
From Thy couch rise in Thy grace.

Now anigh Indra's East
Draws the sun; dark flies apace
At the dawn; and the sun
Of the kindness in Thy face
Riseth high’r, ever high’r,
As like fair flowers opening,
Eyes unclose from their sleep,
Eyes of Thee our beauteous king.

Hear how now clouds of bees
Humming bright fill all the air.
Śiva, Lord, dweller in
Holy Perunduṛai fair,
Thou wilt come to bestow
Favours rich, Oh shew Thy face!
Mountain-joy, ocean-bliss,
From Thy couch rise in Thy grace.

Cocks now crow to the morn,
While the cuckoos loudly call;
Little birds sweetly sing,
And the conch-shell sounds o’er all;
Light of stars fades away
Into common light of day;
Dawn and sun come as one,
Now to us, O God, display

In Thy love Thy twin feet,
Gracious, decked with anklets rare.
Śiva, Lord, dweller in Holy Perunduṛai fair,
Hard for all men to find,
Yet to me Thou shewedst Thy face.
Now O Lord of us all,
From Thy couch rise in Thy grace.

On this side some men play
Lutes and vīṇas sweet of sound;
On that side some men chant
Ancient Ṛik, their songs resound;
In their hands some have brought
Wreaths of many blossoms wove;
Some bow down, some men weep,
Some men sway, o’ercome by love;

Clasping hands o’er their heads,
Others stand with reverent air;
Śiva, Lord, dweller in
Holy Perunduṛai fair,
Even me didst thou save;
Sweet to me have been Thy ways.
Now, O Lord of us all,
From Thy couch rise in Thy grace.