Having already got a red eye I now have a yellow stomach
Where there is an overflowing milk ocean for churning
A churning it does like a professional mountain churner
In the ocean with a snake-rope embracing it for churning.
On the night of Shiva there will come out from churning
A blue poison only Shiva can swallow from the Himalayas.
We pour water on his phallic head here to cool him down
From the poison fumes he had frozen in his blue throat.
I have a red eye, besides an era of trembling in its drums
A vertigo of the mind, its thought aflutter like rose petals
That have come off of old age on my balcony,in blue light.
My beauty shall pass like the cremation ghat of Varanasi
Where a sunrise beauty is swallowed by flames of death.
My eyes have turned red behind glasses from keeping awake
For Shiva who may yet open a third eye from a middle brow
When he will dance destruction on the banks of a holy river
Until pearl-like tears drop from his eyes full of death-smoke
And cool the fiery night with a fragrance of primordial love.
(According to Hindu mythology Shiva drank poison emerging from the churning of the milk ocean and saved the cosmos from destruction. This night of Shiva we keep vigil for Shiva’s recovery from the harmful effects of the poison)
