Let precious coral be the posts, strung pearls the ropes,
Pure gold the beauteous seats,- Mount we, and sweetly sing
The flow’ry Foot Narayanan knew not, to me
His currish slave in Uttara-koca-mangai given
As home, Ambrosial grace, that never palls, His feet impart.
Ye guileless, bright-eyed ones, MOVE WE THE GOLDEN SWING! || 6 ||
Three gleaming eyes His face displays; His flow’ry feet
The gods that dwell in heaven and grow not old, see not;
In Uttara-koca-mangai seen, in flesh abides
The King, while honied sweetness of ambrosia flows.
Sing Idai-maruthu, His home! O ye like peafowl rare,
Whose walk hath swanlike grace, MOVE WE THE GOLDEN SWING! || 12 ||
He Who no end and no beginning knows,- while saints
A multitude, and countless heavenly ones, stood round,-
His sacred ashes gave in grace; and mercy’s tide
Flow’d there: sing Uttara-koca-mangai’s gemlike home
Of palaces, with terrace high, where lightnings play!
Maids, bright with gems and gold, MOVE WE THE GOLDEN SWING! || 18 ||
His throat the poison holds; Lord of the heavenly ones;
To Uttara-koca-mangai’s gemlike cloud-capped heights
He came, with Her whose words are music; fill’d the mind
Of us His slaves, ambrosial sweetness gave and grace
That cuts off ‘death and birth’! His holy praises sing!
Ye who wear store of bracelets bright, MOVE WE THE GOLDEN SWING! || 24 ||
The god, Whose form the Two might not discriminate;
In tender mercy, that the god’s assembled band
Might not know shame, but ‘scape, made them His own, and poison ate
As food: He, Uttara-koca-mangai’s Dancer, crowned
With crescent of the moon. Praise we His worth! O ye
With jewell’d bosoms fair, AND MOVE THE GOLDEN SWING! || 30 ||
The Lady’s Half is He; His braided lock with flow’ry cassia dight
In Utt’ra-koca-mangai ‘midst his saints He dwells.
He freed my soul from sin; made me, a cur, His own;
From ‘birth’s old ill’ His glorious coming saves.
His pendant ear-rings’ swing sing we with melting love, O ye
With flower-crown’d bosoms fair, AND MOVE THE GOLDEN SWING! || 36 ||
He dwells in beauty, Lord of the great mystic word,
Of Utt’ra-koca-mangai shrine, past thought; His praise
Who sing, and worship, and bow down, He frees from bonds of sin.
As gem-bright peafowl moving beauteous, on a swan,
My Father came, and made me His! His beauty sing,
Ye with gold adorned, AND MOVE THE GOLDEN SWING! || 42 ||
From glorious mountain height to earth He came,
Ate plenteous food, arose upon the lower seas,
In magic form upon a charger rode, and made us His;
In sacred Uttara-koca-mangai where His virtue shines,
With loud acclaim Him whom Mal could not reach we praise,
And while our full hearts melt, MOVE WE THE GOLDEN SWING! || 48 ||
In sacred Uttara-koca-mangai’s groves of cocoa-palm
He came, in form unique a gracious light shone forth;
Our ‘birth’ He caused to cease, made such as us His own;
The Queen His Partner, and Himself, received our homage due;
We sing His worth Whose crest breathes cassia’s sweet perfume;
Ye maids, whose jewell’d bosoms heave, MOVE WE THE GOLDEN SWING! || 54 ||