O silver coloured peak of the Himalayas!
Thou art the mother of Divine Science.
May thy lap be ever full;
May Giraja ever play in thine arms.
Give the monsoons the divine message;
When they rain in the plains
They must impregnate the corn
With the great Truth: ‘I am God’.
May he who tastes the fruits
Be intoxicated with unity.
May he involuntarily proclaim
Without the least doubts
The cry rising from Mount Kailash:
“Om Tat Sat; Om Tat Sat.” “OM”.
Visit the assembly of roses, O breeze.
The hearts of the brave.
To the ears of those of those who are startled
By thy soft touch.
Sweetly convey the great secret
Without the least doubt,
The cry rising from Mount Kailash,
“Om Tat Sat; Om Tat Sat.” “OM”.
Flash, O lightning, on the world,
Fill with light our dark homes.
Quicken and illumine all hearts;
Crush their doubts for ever more.
From the height of Mount Kailash rises the cry:
“Om Tat Sat; “Om Tat Sat.” “OM”.
O lightning, flash brightly,
O thunder, crash, and annihilate
All duality, prejudice and illusion.
Let them hear the mighty cry,
And abandon all doubts, all scepticism.
From the height of Mount Kailash rises the cry:
“Om Tat Sat; Om Tat Sat.” “OM”.
Flow on and on, O Mother Ganges,
Mayest thou be a source of peace
To the world for long, long ages.
Impregnate every atom of the body
Of those who drink thy water
With the great Truth.
Kill all their doubts and scepticism.
The cry rises from Mount Kailash:
“Om Tat Sat; Om Tat Sat.” “OM”.
Ye editors, in the columns of your journals,
Publish the cry from Kailash in letters bold.
Ye instructors, in your schools, give the drink of this cry to your children.
On the occasion of the Hindu festivals, raise this cry to awaken all.
In the highways and temples, in the market-places,
Sing this cry on the bright note E.
From the top of Mount Kailash rises the cry supreme:
“Om Tat Sat; Om Tat Sat.” “OM”.
On the occasion of a wedding
There have gathered relatives and friends,
Forgetting the nature of their Self,
What a pity – they look on this dream world for joy.
Strike the drum with all your might.
Kill all their doubts and scepticism;
While there goes forth from the top of Mount Kailash:
“Om Tat Sat; Om Tat Sat.” “OM”.
My darling at the time of the death of thy father,
Whisper into his ear the message of the Gita:
“TAT TWAM ASI” – That thou art;
Thou art God, nothing but God.
Tell him, sitting by his side, with reverence.
Mingle this cry with thy sighs,
And drop it in the form of tears on his breast.
From the top of Mount Kailash rises the cry:
“Om Tat Sat; Om Tat Sat.” “OM”.
Revive the dying hearts once more,
And proclaim this message at their death.
Without hesitation blow this mighty conch.
Drown all doubts and scepticism.
From the top of Mount Kailash rises the cry:
“Om Tat Sat; Om Tat Sat.” “OM”.
When the army marches to battle, It faces death outright,
March like Arjuna with a courageous heart;
And from the band may there arise this cry:
Which echoes from Mount Kailash:
“Om Tat Sat; Om Tat Sat.” “OM”.
If ignorance ever threatens thee,
Do not abandon compassion;
Remember, O darling, thou art the abuser, the insult, the censor.
Thou art the enemy, and thou art the friend,
Communicate this lesson through thy loving glances;
Reach forth thy hands to grasp thine enemy’s.
From the top of Mount Kailash rises the cry :
“Om Tat Sat; Om Tat Sat.” “OM”.
Stand firm on the execution ground,
Make thy home in the hearts of the witnesses.
As fingers are pointed at thee
And everyone calls thee criminal and sinner
Remove the illusion of the spectators;
Show them thy immortal nature.
Bend thy head low to be beheaded,
Abolish their doubts and suspicions,
And join once more in the mighty cry,
Rising from the top of Mount Kailash:
“Om Tat Sat; Om Tat Sat.” “OM”.
OM

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