Again the sages came and reminded Himavant of the marriage; and he, seeing the time was fit, sent and summoned all the gods.
Whom he courteously addressed, and assigned to each an appropriate seat. An altar was prepared according to Vedic ritual, while the women chanted festal strains; and a divinely beautiful throne was erected, the handiwork of a god, beyond description. Then Siva, after bowing to the Brahmans, took his seat, remembering in his heart his own lord, Rama. Then the sages sent for Umi, who was brought in by her handmaids, richly adorned. All the gods beholding her beauty were enraptured. What poet in the world could describe such loveliness? The divinities who recognized in her the universal mother, the spouse of Mahadeva, adored her in their inmost soul—Bhavani, the crown of beauty—whose praises would still be beyond me even though I had a myriad tongues.
A myriad tongues were all too few to sing her matchless grace:
When gods and muses shrink abashed, for Tulsi’s rhyme what place?
With downcast eyes the glorious dame passed up the hall, and fell.
Bee-like, at Siva’s lotus feet, the lord she loved so well.
Whom he courteously addressed, and assigned to each an appropriate seat. An altar was prepared according to Vedic ritual, while the women chanted festal strains; and a divinely beautiful throne was erected, the handiwork of a god, beyond description. Then Siva, after bowing to the Brahmans, took his seat, remembering in his heart his own lord, Rama. Then the sages sent for Umi, who was brought in by her handmaids, richly adorned. All the gods beholding her beauty were enraptured. What poet in the world could describe such loveliness? The divinities who recognized in her the universal mother, the spouse of Mahadeva, adored her in their inmost soul—Bhavani, the crown of beauty—whose praises would still be beyond me even though I had a myriad tongues.
A myriad tongues were all too few to sing her matchless grace:
When gods and muses shrink abashed, for Tulsi’s rhyme what place?
With downcast eyes the glorious dame passed up the hall, and fell.
Bee-like, at Siva’s lotus feet, the lord she loved so well.