jatatavi galajjala pravah pavit sthal
galewlmb bhujngtung pitamb malikam
jatatavi galajjala pravah pavit sthal
galewlmb bhujngtung pitamb malikam
damad damad

From tangled locks, a river's grace descends,
Purifying the throat where life suspends.
A serpent, towering, adorns the neck,
A garland of the sky, a golden fleck.

From tangled locks, the cleansing waters flow,
Across the hallowed ground where spirits grow.
A serpent, high, its coiled form takes hold,
A yellow cloak of light, a story told.
*Dum*