The stars are blotted out,
The clouds are covering clouds,
It is darkness vibrant, sonant.
In the roaring, whirling wind
Are the souls of a million lunatics
Just loose from the prison-house,
Wrenching trees by the roots,
Sweeping all from the path.
The sea has joined the fray,
And swirls up mountain-waves,
To reach the pitchy sky.
The flash of lurid light
Reveals on every side
A thousand, thousand shades
Of Death begrimed and black —
Scattering plagues and sorrows,
Dancing mad with joy,
Come, Mother, come!
For Terror is Thy name,
Death is in Thy breath,
And every shaking step
Destroys a world for e'er.
Thou 'Time', the All-Destroyer!
Come, O Mother, come!
Who dares misery love,
And hug the form of Death,
Dance in Destruction's dance,
To him the Mother comes.
'And every shaking step Destroys a world for e'er.' Swami, who had in fact realised Mother in his life, describes Mother's trait in a powerful language,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Kali The Mother is a song of the sadhaka, a song of the sanyasin who delights in experimenting with the Divine, in having a tryst with mystical, supernatural, nocturnal aspects and things of life and the world and so the case with this wandering fakir, yogi of India. the sanyasin hinks in terms of a Kali devotee thinks, a sadhaka takes to. the sphere of experience narrated in is mythological and mystical no doubt.