The Birth of Kumāra 2.58

2.58

sa hi devaḥ paraṃ jyotistamaḥpāre vyavasthitam |
paricchinnaprabhāvarddhirna mayā na ca viṣṇunā ||

Sweet as the rains—the fresh'ning rains—that pour
On the parched earth when thunders cease to roar,
Were Brahma's words:—"Gods, I have heard your grief,
Wait ye in patience—time will bring relief;
'Tis not for me, my children, to create
A chief to save you from your mournful fate;
Not by my hand the Fiend must be destroyed,
For my kind favour has he once enjoyed,
And well ye know that e'en a poisonous tree
By him who planted it unharmed should be;
He sought it eagerly, and long ago
I gave my favour to your Demon-foe,
And stayed his awful penance, that had hurled
Flames, death, and ruin o'er the subject World.
When that great warrior battles for his life,
O, who may conquer in the deadly strife,
Save one of Siva's seed? He is the Light,
Reigning supreme beyond the depths of night;
Nor I, nor Vishnu, his full power may share,
Lo, where he dwells in solitude and prayer!—
Go, seek the Hermit in the grove alone.
And to the God be Uma's beauty shown;
Perchance, the Mountain-child, with magnet's force,
May turn the iron from its steadfast course,
Bride of the mighty God—for only she
Can bear to Him as Water bears to me;
Then from their love a mighty Child shall rise,
And lead to war the armies of the skies:
Freed by his hand, no more the heavenly Maids
Shall twine their glittering hair in mournful braids."