1000. O my Father in Naimiśāraṇyam. You who churned the milk ocean, stirring its white waves into foam! I gambled and stole without shame, longed for women with curling hair, and wandered after every sight I saw. Now, trembling in fear of Yama’s men and the pain they bring - I have come, at last, to Your sacred feet.
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(The words may be rearranged to facilitate poetry to prose conversion (Aṉvayam). Please read the meanings (in black) continiously to form the sentence and understand the simple meaning of those verse.)