Shiva, voice choked with love, prays: protect me, Lord of the Raghu line. You are the wind that scatters the dense clouds of delusion, the fire that burns the forest of doubt. Without qualities and with them, temple of all virtue, you are the sun whose glory drives off the darkness of error; dwell always in your devotee's mind. You are the frost that withers the lotus-bed of worldly wishes; carry us across the sea of becoming. Dark-limbed, lotus-eyed friend of the lowly, live forever in my heart with your brother and Janaki. Shiva ends: when your tilak is held in Kosalapuri, ocean of mercy, I will come to see that noble sight.