Tribhangi Cchandah Stava

I worship him, the breaker of the twin arjuna trees, the delighter of those who take shelter of him, the bearer of that great dance amid the hissing of the serpent Kaliya; the Indra of the cowherds, who resorted to the mountain cave of Govardhana, most beautiful, lotus-handed; worshiped by the finest cowherd women, holder of the ever-sounding new flute; expert in the playful wit of Cupid, whose bodily marks are utterly unparalleled, supreme in every skill.

A thunderbolt of comfort for those who bow to him, clad in tawny garments, a lion to his elephant-like enemies, moon-faced; protector of the herds of cows, playful imitator of birds, most gracious, of boundless inner joy; adorned with the fair mark of his elders, expert in conciliation, who broke apart the sacrifice of Indra; the sun that opens the lotus of Vraja, his forehead marked with brilliant gorocana, his nails tinged copper-red.

His moving, creeper-like eyebrows are like the sharpened arrows loosed by the intoxicated hero of amorous love; his lotus eyes make the proud shrink back; he is the liberator from sin, bowed to by the multitude of gods; possessed of the highest dignity, of brilliant fragrance, deeply devoted to the cowherds, his feet tender as young shoots, his graceful gait a beauty unattainable even by the loveliest of the heavens.

On his shoulders rests no danger he cannot overcome, though he wanders through perilous, tangled forests; adorned with fresh kadamba blossoms, hummed about by forest bees, followed by the sweet note of the cuckoo; a fire consuming the straw of wicked men, surrounded by a following of young companions, his lower lip red as a petal; his arms, celebrated for their own valor, proudly humbled the strength of the demons.

His ear-ornaments outshine the sun in luster; his glancing eyes destroy the pride of his critics; he spreads flowers as a bed on the Yamuna's bank, deep in joyfully murmured love with his beloved — we worship you, delight of those who bow to you, whose lineage needs no further adornment, who confounded the wicked mind of Kamsa; you, here, O Damodara, brother of Haladhara — remove our fear, you whose affection is ever bound to us.