Guru Shankaracharya. Poem by RAVIKIRAN ARAKKAL

A boy with his mother,
Entered the waters of river,
Playing with the waves,
early in the morning,
In the cool dewy windly times,
Suddenly wascaught
By the leg by a crocodile,
Boy splashing
And half submerged
Shouted to his mother,
Who cried aloud and prayed
To the god and told him,
That the boy will be made
A virtuous priest,
When the crocodile left the boy,
Who was tought all
Vedas, puranas, which are
The most sacred verses
Of a three hundred years afore,
And became a bachelor saint,
Who taught all the people
In his travails on foot
All over the country, India,
Made many temples,
Renovated many old ones,
Established four ashrams,
Which are even sacred of date,
The young man united
With the goddess he prayed
Always, to go to heavens,
At an early age of thirty,
Sankararachary is
The holiest priest
Ever made in the holy Bharath
Which is called India now.

Ravikiran Arakkal