The wheel protecting the arched wide world
in the right hand and the right-whorled twisted conch,
Thirumagal stamped, borne in the strong left,
spouting water, Thirumal soared above
as the clouds which guzzled the cold roaring sea,
loomed up, tarried over the hills and galloped
and blasted the earth on a dreary eve.(Lines 1 to 6)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem