Āhe Nīḻa Śaiḻa: O’ Blue Mountain
Prayer and praise of the Lord of the Blue Mountain – the Supreme Lord Jagannātha, requesting to accept surrender of the downtrodden oneself.
(Below is the song as collected from works of Bhakta Kavi Sālabega, composed around 17th Century AD in Oḍiā, translated into English)
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āhe nīḻa śaiḻa prabaḻa matta vāraṇa ।
mo ārata naḻīni vanaku kara daḻana ॥1॥
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gajarāja cintā kalā thāi ghora jaḻeṇa ।
cakra peṣi nakra nāśi uddhārila āpaṇa ॥2॥
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ghora vane mṛguṇī ku paḍithilā kaṣaṇa ।
keḍe baḍa vipattiru rakṣākala takṣaṇa ॥3॥
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kuru sabhā taḻe suṇi draupadī ra jaṇāṇa ।
koṭi vastra dei hele lajjā kala vāraṇa ॥4॥
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rāvaṇa ra bhāi vibhīṣaṇa galā śaraṇa ।
śaraṇa sambhāḻi tāku laṅke kala rājana ॥5॥
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prahalāda pitā se je baḍa duṣṭa dāruṇa ।
stambha ru bāhāri tāku vidārila takṣaṇa ॥6॥
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ajāmiḻa dākā delā prāṇayibā kāḻeṇa ।
eḍe baḍa papī galā vaikuṇṭha bhuvana ॥7॥
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nīḻāñcaḻe bije prabhu bauddha avatāreṇa ।
dvibāhu prasāri prabhu jācuacha śaraṇa ॥8॥
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kahe sālabega hīna jāti re mum̐ jabana ।
śrīraṅgā caraṇa taḻe karuachi jaṇāṇa ॥9॥
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O’ resident of blue mountain!
Mighty, wild and invincible;
On my distressed lotus forest
O’ Lord, please do come and trample.
The elephant lord thought of you
When stuck in very deep water;
Your disc’s bolt killed alligator
And you, Lord, became its saviour.
When in the deep forest, the doe,
Was shaking petrified in fear;
Eliminating great danger,
You, O’ Lord, then protected her.
Hearing in Kuru’s royal court
Draupadī’s sincere entreaty;
You provided her crores of clothes
And that act saved her modesty.
Rāvaṇa’s brother Vibhīṣaṇa
Surrendered for your protection;
Giving him shelter, you, O’ Lord,
Gifted Lankā’s dominion.
Prahalāda’s father but was
Greatly wicked and violent;
From the pillar out you came, Lord,
And then tore him in a moment.
Ajāmiḻa but called your name,
Towards death as his body strode;
Even such a great sinner went
To the great Vaikuṇṭha abode.
At the blue zone sitting, O’ Lord –
You are in an enlightened form;
But extending two hands, O’ Lord,
Offering shelter from the storm.
Now says the poor Sālabega –
I, who am but Muslim by caste,
Under the Lord’s divine pink feet
Hereby making my pleas at last.
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