Hari is come, his hands adorned
with the shell and the wheel. Garuda
comes with whirring wings, crying eagerly “Fear
not! fear not.” The splendour of Hari’s crown and
earrings hides the lustre of the Sun; his hue is
that of the purple cloud, lovely is his form to see.
Four arms has he; a wreath of basil hangs
swaying round his neck. The lustre of his yellow
robe lights up the ten quarters of the sky. Tuka
is fully satisfied; the throne of Vaikuntha has
come to visit his house.
with the shell and the wheel. Garuda
comes with whirring wings, crying eagerly “Fear
not! fear not.” The splendour of Hari’s crown and
earrings hides the lustre of the Sun; his hue is
that of the purple cloud, lovely is his form to see.
Four arms has he; a wreath of basil hangs
swaying round his neck. The lustre of his yellow
robe lights up the ten quarters of the sky. Tuka
is fully satisfied; the throne of Vaikuntha has
come to visit his house.