O Lord Siva, as Thou danceth in gay abandon, droplets from the Ganga escape from Thy matted locks and rain on the worlds to hallow them. And when Thou embark upon the fierce dance, the kaparda gets dishevelled and the locks are let loose.
O Lord Siva, you impart grace on the self-effacing votaries with the toe-nail of Thy bent
left-foot.
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