The sun, as the fist of Day the wrestler, shatters his enemy the night. May he, the knot of love that binds the cakra bird and his wife, purify you.
You resemble a new lotus opening at the tip of the upraised trunk of the elephant that guards Indra’s direction. The female cakravaka birds of the three worlds attend to you with the arghya offering formed of their tears. They are freed from despondency by the sight of the chariot that shines with its team of irrepressible handsome horses who are neighing in satisfaction thanks to the embrace of a breeze pleasantly cooled by the pure heavenly rivers’ mass of waves. Oh Lord of the triple Vedas, ablaze with your own brilliance – victory!
You are the origin of the light that so delights the world. Happily you roam the paths of the sky cloud-free yet decorated with lightning creepers created by the flash of the golden whip as the best of charioteers flicks it up. He is agitated – his progress has been hindered because his team of horses is no longer paying attention, engrossed instead in listening to the music of the vina that is formed of a line of bees swarming around the surface of a lotus pond. You are the elephant in rut who destroys the tree of ignorance, the fresh basin of water in which the creeper of the triple Vedas stands – victory!
Your chariot outpaces even the speed of the winds at the time of final dissolution. You are the one repository of the Vedas. Celebrated for your orb which becomes the jar of golden nectar offered by Day in the place of Garuda, lord of birds, who troubles the hordes of rakshasas standing in for snakes who are adroit at playing games in the web of the night’s darkness which forms Patala. Oh Martanda, you grace the gods who are forever praising you with a light which is anything but fierce, pure in your own boundless splendour – victory!
Your youth is attended by a glorious warm light which skillfully steals the web of snowflakes that lie thick upon the manes of the troop of awakening lions on the sunrise mountain. You are the single spark that lights the fire of dawn. Splendid, you cannot be characterised. You freely undertake the protection of the terror-struck – child’s play to you. You are the kaustubha jewel that lies upon the dark expanse of the sky that forms Vishnu’s chest. You alone are worthy of the three worlds’ worship, eldest among the moon and celestial beings – to you I bow.
Let the wise gladly accept this daṇḍaka which Sri Shankar fixed upon the great umbrella – in the form of the grace of the sun – which destroys the burning heat of misfortune.
Dr Shankar Rajaraman