Sw. Vivekanananda, 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.

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