The hero speaks:
Serpentine and fulgurant is her waist Whose eyes are weapons of war;
As they roll and roll,
they cast a double witchery;
One glance causes pain and the other heals it.
He is my jewel,
my nectar,
my life;
He is the Chintamani of Tillai;
He is the Lord of the Gospels,
Imperceivable even by the skyey gods;
Illness is the lot of them that hail not His feet.



With flash-like waist, in snaky moves, with shoulders lithe,
Eyes of Hers are weaponry; atwirl, atwirl
They plague and treat the beholder’s angst
As of those that hail not the holy feet of Tillai Andhanan,
Dear to Devas,a chinta- gem
Bestowing every servitor’s wish.