Shiva tandava, want I to describe,
But I know it not
The rhythm of music, the dance of the moment
Coming down
From Kailash and its snowy peaks,
And Shiva as a yogi,
A sadhaka and a fakira,
Feeling the ananda of the soul
And dancing in ecstasy.
Lo, the yogi is sounding the damru,
And dancing with the trisula and the kamandala,
On the Kailasha
And its domains, snowy terrains,
In a classical pose and posture of His own
And the world trembling underneath!
Shiva, Shiva, Shiva, Shiva,
All praying rhythmically,
Shiva, Shiva, Shiva,
Om namah shivay,
O, the slopes unknown!
Nataraja Shiva in His dance,
An art-piece museumological and crafted,
Older and older,
Classical and artistic,
And the art speaking
Of the dance of Shiva.
The Shiva tandava,
Music up beating and highly pitched,
The sound and the drumming higher,
With the notes resounding
And the world trembling underneath,
O, could it be,
Say it to me!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem