Śrī Dāmodarāshtakam

namāmishvaram sat-chid-ānanda rūpam

lasat-kundalam gokule bhrājamanam

yashodā bhiyolūkhalād dhāvamānam

parāmrishtam atyantato drutya gopyā

I bow down to Dāmodara, the form of full joy, eternity and wisdom, within Vrindāvan. Whose shining earrings swung as He so swiftly ran from mother Yashodā who caught that naughty boy.

rudantam muhur netra yugmam mrijantam

karāmbhoja yugmena sātanka netram

muhuh shvāsa kampa trirekhānka kantha

sthita graivam dāmodaram bhakti baddham

Captured by Yashodā, crying repeatedly,He rubs His reddish eyes with His trembling hands. On His conchlike neck His necklace shakes as he pants. I bow down to Dāmodara, bound but by bhakti.

itīdrik sva līlābhir nanda kunde

sva ghosham nimajjantam khyāpayantam

tadīyeshita jneshu bhaktair jitatvam

punah prematas tam shatāvritti vande

Thus bathing Gokula in a great lake of bliss; He shows love defeats Him, devoid of reverence. Conquered only by those in complete confidence, I offer Him unlimited loving praises.

varam deva moksham na mokshāvadhim vā

na chanyam vrine ‘ham vareshād apīha

idam te vapur nātha gopāla bālam

sadā me manasy virāstām kim anyaih

I beg not from You Lord, who can grant any boon, even liberation or life in Your abode. Let memories of Gopāla be ever bestowed, for what other favour offers such great fortune?

idam te mukhāmbhojam atyanta nīlair

vritam kuntalaih snigdha raktaish cha gopyā

muhush chumbitam bimba raktādharam me

manasy virāstām alam laksha lābhaih

Your dark, crimson-hued curls encircle Your face, lovely like a lotus, with lips of ruby red; kissed by Yashodā; within my mind be seated. A billion other boons could not grant such grace.

namo deva dāmodarānanta vishno

prasīda prabho duhkha jālābdhi magnam

kripā drishti vrishtyāti dīnam batānu

grihānesha mām ajnam edhy akshi drishyah

O Dāmodara, Ananta, O almighty Vishnu, I fall down prostrate, pray be pleased upon me. Blinded and sinking in a sea of misery, grace me with Your glance that I shall ever see You.

kuverātmajau baddha mūrtyaiva yadvat

tvayā mochitau bhakti bhājau kritau cha

tathā prema bhaktim svakām me prayaccha

na mokshe graho me’sti dāmodareha

O Lord Dāmodara, just as the two sons of Kuvera— Manigrīva and Nalakūvara—were delivered from their curse and made into great devotees by You, please grant me the same prema-bhakti. I have no desire for any kind of liberation.

namas te ’stu dāmne sphurad-dīpti-dhāmne

tvadīyodarāyātha viśvasya dhāmne

namo rādhikāyai tvadīya-priyāyai

namo ’nanta-līlāya devāya tubhyam

I bow down to the bright rope that binds Your belly, within which the cosmos is completely contained. To Your beloved Rādhā I bow yet again, and to You the hero who plays wonderfully.