KALI THE MOTHER [P.S. by Sugata Bose]

KALI THE MOTHER

The stars are blotted out,

The clouds are covering clouds,

It is darkness vibrant, sonant.

In the roaring, whirling wind

Are the souls of a million lunatics

Just loose from the prison-house,

Wrenching trees by the roots,

Sweeping all from the path.

The sea has joined the fray,

And swirls up mountain-waves,

To reach the pitchy sky.

The flash of lurid light

Reveals on every side

A thousand, thousand shades

Of Death begrimed and black —

Scattering plagues and sorrows,

Dancing mad with joy,

Come, Mother, come!

For Terror is Thy name,

Death is in Thy breath,

And every shaking step

Destroys a world for e'er.

Thou "Time", the All-Destroyer!

Come, O Mother, come!

Who dares misery love,

And hug the form of Death,

Dance in Destruction's dance,

To him the Mother comes.

Composed by Swami Vivekananda in 1898 in Srinagar, Kashmir

[P.S. by Sugata Bose : 

Mother seeks our blood in dreadful deed, in Her sword severing our head. That is the purport of the poem which threw Swamiji into a death-defying transport culminating in he being completely overpowered by the frightful emotion flooding his being as the Mother in Her terrible aspect appeared before him. This poem of epic fury of the Mother depicted marks a radical departure from the soft and gentle worship of the Mother in Her homely aspect where 'ma ma hingsi' is invoked. This is the worship of the warrior who offers his head by way of love for the Mother and seeks not even immortality in return. It is a case of absolute giving careless of return, sacrifice of self at the scaffold where Mother waits with Her arms raised to sever head from form. 🕉 Hindu!]