Mega Shiva Ratri

Jeʈa ʈewi gelejjelo
prewaho pawitestholê
gelêwelembyo lembitam
bhujengo tungo malikam
-trinado weɖɖemerweyem
chekaro chenɖetanɖewon
tenôtu noh Shiwoh Shiwom

From out the forest of my hair
some water’s pouring on my neck
where rosary snake pierces me
and I make drummers hit the drums
then by myself I kick the ground
the rhythm through everyone is
satisfied by Shiva Shiva

Under the heel of my buskins
here you lie my captive human
where you will soon learn my terror,
my joy, my life, my death, my love
where for long I will teach you how
never again distinguish them
Black light and blond darkness are both
the daughters of Shiva Shiva

I run down the hills and I scream,
I burn the fields all into smoke,
I break the cities who reject
I kill the kings who don’t accept
Wherever people disavow
I grow for them belladonna
All those who say that I am fool
die by hand of Shiva Shiva

Man, see, I am your antique lord
I’m your everlasting lover
I am the laugh of your ending
I am the gloom of your winning
I am the crown of your bleeding
Don’t try to flee from out my grasp
You know me more than you know you
who burn at the feet of Shiva

I know the name of your despair
I know the nonsense of the world
I can read your eyes switching off
waiting for sufferings to stop
I come, I bring a solution
that only actors can express
I will destroy the delusion
of hope you could flee from Shiva

Instead of fighting, my puppet
that I squeeze in my blue fingers,
let yourself slowly disappear
in the fool fire of my smile
And as the grapes squashed underfoot
by the soles of my young satyrs
your heart at last will feel the joy
to be trodden under Shiva

Before you I have known also
the shredding that doesn’t leave you
And like you I ended also
tormented by all the living
Before you I suffered also
coldness, insult and ignorance
And like you I become also
the god of wrath Shiva Shiva

From out the forest of my hair
some river’ll be waiting for you
where the piercing snake will lead you
to dance with the sound of the drums
and with my king-skinned leather boots
I will myself, yes, kick the ground
And before you will be switched off
you’ll be chanting ‘Shiva Shiva’

Jean-Sébastien Desnanot

Painting Credits: M.F. Husain Shiva Nataraja, 1971

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