a poem by Rajaram Ramachandran, India - poetry writer, author, poet


Prayer to Lord Ganesh.

Oh the merciful Lord Ganesh,
It’s my only humble wish,
That You grant me a boon,
Sooner or later, better soon.

When You dance in single,
I hear Your anklets jingle!
How happy I become.
Here, when You come!

Your elephant face is one
That attracts everyone!
To grant our every wish,
You’re the first One to rush.

You remove our every hurdle,
And free us from our struggle.
By your mercy, we have fame
And each one, a popular name.

I’ve with me to give you,
My humble respects for you,
Besides my offer of cane juice,
Pressed rice, and fruit juice.

For this, you grant my wish,
That I shall, with no blemish,
Write on the life of a King,
An exceptional human being.

His name was Harichandran.
In Solar race, he was born.
The world, in praise, to sing,
Allow me, his story to bring.

Prayer to Lord Shiva

From Brahma, the Creator,
Vishnu, the Protector,
And Shiva, the Destroyer,
I seek next their favour.

Shiva gave His consort,
Left half of his body part,
To reveal to this world,
Shiva-Sakthi in one fold.

He represents Vedas four,
Sama, Adarva, Rig, Yajur,
And is spread in five elements,
Earth, water, fire, air, space.

From His invisible form,
He comes out, some time,
And takes a visible form,
To please His devotees.

The beautiful crescent moon,
O’er His head, he has worn.
He takes pride in Tamil,
And likes to be praised well.

Two of His divine children,
Lord Ganesh, Lord Murugan,
His two merciful creations,
Offer us all the protections.

To Lord Shiva’s lotus feet,
This only request, I submit.
Let me write on this King,
Who gave up everything.

Prayer to Mother Kaalli

Your names are many,
As sweet as the honey,
Oh merciful Mother Kaalli
You’re seated o’er Yaalli.

Allow me to keep your feet
O’er my head, when I write
The noble story of Harichandran,
Who was an extra-ordinary man.

Prayer to Goddess Kalaimagal

Oh Goddess Kalaimagal
Give me all the skill
To write about this King,
Who was, for truth, fighting.

Appeal to the wise men

Oh you, the wise men, listen,
May I request your pardon,
If there’s any unknown fault
In whatever I may write.

With milk, water gets mixed.
With paddy, husks get mixed.
With garland, thread gets mixed.
So, are my words, good and bad mixed

I appeal to the wise all
To take my good ones well,
And leave away the rest,
That may not sound the best.


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