958. O heart! Once, with His great bow drawn, He shattered the mighty body of Vāli, He, the Lord, now dwells in Thiruppirithi of the Himalayas, where cool breezes carry cardamom’s scent, and vast groves bloom beside clear ponds. Thunderous clouds roll across snow-capped peaks, and peacocks with splendid tails dance atop steep cliffs. Let us go and reach that sacred place, and worship Him there.

959. He made the vast ocean churn. With the monkey clans serving Him, He built a dam with mighty stones, And shattered the great city of Lanka to dust. That very Lord now dwells in the sacred Himalayas, Where furious elephants, fierce as mountains, Tremble before roaring lions with sword-like teeth, Leaping out from deep, dark caves. Go, O heart, and reach Thiruppirithi!

960. For the sake of Nappinnai, Whose slender waist curves like a drum, With curling hair and teeth that gleam, The Lord subdued seven fierce bulls, That roared like thunder. He now resides in the sacred Himalayas, Where bees hum sweet melodies, And the breeze carries fragrance From blooming vengai flowers That fall on beds of precious blue stones. There, in Thiruppirithi, Elephants rest peacefully beside their mates. Go, O heart, and reach that divine place!

961. When Sriman Narayana took the form of an angry man-lion Even the brave shuddered with fear. He tore open the vast chest of Hiraṇya, Making the gods bow down, With their gem-studded crowns touching the ground. That Sriman Narayana now resides in the sacred Himalayas, Where wild boars dig through rocks, Cracking them with their curved tusks, While radiant gemstones and glowing waterfalls Tumble down the slopes. Go, O heart, and reach Thiruppirithi!

962. Sriman Narayana, whose anklets resound with divine music, Worshipped by the gods who bow at His feet, Once dwelled on the vast ocean, With Mahalakshmi on the lotus, decked in a shining Mekalai, Created a shore, so that all could reach Him with ease. He now dwells with Mahalakshmi in the sacred Himalayas, Where mighty mountain-like tuskers pluck young bamboo shoots, Dip them in wild honey, And feed their tender calves with love. Go, O heart, and reach Thiruppirithi!

963. In Thirupaarkadal, Sriman Narayana rests upon Ādiśeṣa, The thousand-hooded one, ever immersed in devoted service. The gods gather and bow in deep reverence, Their gem-studded crowns touching His lotus feet, Calling Him Paraman — the One without an equal. Now, He dwells in the sacred Himalayas, Where mādhavi vines, rich with fragrance, Climb skyward, entwining the drifting clouds, While bees hum sweet songs in blooming groves. Go, O heart, and reach Thiruppirithi!

964. In the Himalayan slopes where black clouds cling To lofty vengai trees that embrace the hills, Where pepper vines grow thick and close, And in terraced fields, tigers prowl among shadowed rocks, In that land of blooming groves and scented breeze, The devas come with radiant garlands, And bathe in sacred lotus-filled ponds. They offer eight kinds of fragrant flowers, Chanting a thousand names with pure devotion, Standing still, heads bowed, worshiping His feet. Go, O heart, and reach Thiruppirithi!

965. At night, when darkness deepens, And the caves of the mountains grow heavy with gloom, Ravenous serpents let out long yawns from shadowed dens. In the lower folds of the Himalayas, Where wild groves embrace the slopes, The gods, along with Brahma, come in reverence, Calling Him Paramapurushane (O Supreme One), Adi Moolame (O Primal Source) And “The One hued like a cool raincloud.” They stand in awe and praise His feet, That wondrous One who grants refuge. Go, O heart, and reach Thiruppirithi!

966. He, who is praised with a thousand names, Destroys all sins for those who truly know and trust Him. No harm shall ever touch those, Who do not turn away from His feet. Such is the grace, such is the greatness Of our Lord who dwells in the sacred Himalayas, Where blooming ashoka trees shine with fiery beauty, And foolish bees, mistaking them for flame, Shrink back in fear. Go, O heart, and reach Thiruppirithi!

967. Dark thunderclouds gather, And as their booming echoes roll, Great mountain snakes, startled, Mistake them for the footfalls of elephants, And shift like moving hills. In Thiruppirithi, where our Lord resides, Bees with striped wings hum in fragrant groves. These divine verses, sung by Thirumangai Azhwar, Bear rare and wondrous melody. For those who recite them with love, No grievous sin shall ever come near.