Har Har Mahadeva,
Har Har Mahadeva,
Shiva Sankara,
Bhole Sankara,
Mahadeva doing the rounds,
Rending skies
And the search with it,
With it ending it not,
The Shiva myth taking us
Into the mountainous regions
Where into the cave
There flickers the light
And showing the images of Shiva
Sitting white,
Apppearing blue.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem