Śrī Hari Vilāpa Chaturdasha-stōtram

Holy Sonnet:

Complaint to our Lord Hari


Our Hari, in my heart’s no charity—

It’s rife with vice & vile conceit,

And, miserly of love, doth cheat

Thee, Lord, in sin’s error’s insincerity.

When will my mind fix on Thy lotus feet

Where’s pinned our Lady of Prosperity,

And, meditating in austerity,

Not fidget, fickle in its yoga seat?

Pray whirl in me Thy dazzling discus blade

To turn my stuck heart chakra’s cog so rusted!

Please wash with lotus dew my mind bedusted!

May on Thy conch shell clarion be played

The note to stir me from samsāra’s slumber!

Please beat with mace my demons without number!

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