Vaishno Devi Chalisa

Garuda-borne Vaishnavi, abode on Trikuta mount;

Kali, Lakshmi, Saraswati — salutations to you, O Power.

Salutations to Vaishno, giver of boons, auspicious benefactor in Kali’s age.

Your flame burns on Mani-parvat, incarnate in Pindi form.

Gods and goddesses gave their essence; you were born in Ratnakar’s house.

“Doing penance, may I win Ram; may I be called Treta’s power.”

Said Ram: go to Mani-parvat, be called Kaliyuga’s goddess.

“As Kalki in Vishnu’s form, I shall take power, changing form.”

“Till then go to Trikuta valley, finding the dark cave.”

Kali-Lakshmi-Saraswati and Mother Parvati shall nourish you.

Brahma, Vishnu, Shankar at your doors; Hanuman, Bhairav, beloved guards.

Riddhi-Siddhi wave fly-whisks; Kaliyuga folk come worshipping.

Betel, areca, flag, coconut; pure foot-nectar of your feet.

Smiling, Mother granted the fruitful boon, coming to the mount for penance.

Kali’s age flared fiercely; one day she revealed her form.

As a maiden she came to Nagrota; yogi Bhairon glimpsed her.

Seeing her beauty he lusted, chasing close behind.

Mother joined the maidens, then moved to Kaul-Kandoli.

The goddess granted her vision, adept in wind-swift form.

In Navratri she staged her play, coming to devotee Shridhar’s home.

She fed the yogis a feast; all ate with relish.

Bhairon demanded meat and wine; quitting wind-form wishes, she refused.

Striking an arrow, Ganga sprang forth; she fled enraptured to the mount.

Where her foot touched a rock, it was named Charan-Paduka.

Mighty Bhairon pursued behind; she entered the peak cave.

Nine months she dwelt within, then burst forth into light.

Primal power, Brahma’s maiden, called the eternal virgin Mother.

Smiling she reached the cave door; brave Langur received her command.

Rushing, Bhairon came, wielding his weapon in defence.

His head fell upon the mount; forgiving, she granted him a boon.

“You shall be worshipped with me; I’ll establish Bhairon valley.”

“First my vision, then your remembrance.”

Mother sat as Pindi, water rippling at her feet.

Sixty-four yoginis, Bhairon, saabaras; seven sages come remembering.

Bells ring over the mountain; the wondrous cave looks fair.

Devotee Shridhar worshipped, winning devotion-service’s boon.

I meditate on you, your servant, offering flag and robe.

The lion ever guards your door; the tiger’s(?) paw ends sorrow.

Jambu-island’s king celebrated, offering a golden parasol.

A beloved diamond idol; your one flame wakes unbroken.

In Ashwin-Chaitra Navratri I come, beholding Pindi Rani.

Servant Kamal is at your refuge; Vaishno, end our peril.

In Kaliyuga your glory is boundless, Mother; as dharma declines, appear incarnate.