Adi Shakti

She rises from the void, a flame untamed, 
her breath the wind that stirs the sleeping earth, 
her voice the hymn that time itself has named, 
the womb of chaos, the mother of rebirth. 

Her hands weave galaxies in silver thread, 
her laughter spills like rivers down the hills, 
the moon is but a jewel upon her head, 
the stars her footprints where the darkness thrills. 

She dances in the embers of the sun, 
her shadow paints the mountains with desire, 
the oceans rise and fall beneath her run, 
her fury burns, her mercy quenches fire. 

The serpent coils around her sacred spine, 
a thousand petals bloom beneath her feet, 
her silence hums the universal sign, 
her pulse the drum that makes the worlds complete. 

She is the question and the answer too, 
the unformed clay, the potter, and the wheel, 
the warrior’s cry, the lover’s tender hue, 
the force that bends yet teaches steel to kneel. 

Adi Shakti, unbound, eternal, vast, 
in her embrace the cosmos finds its rest, 
she is the first, the present, and the last, 
the primal song, the heartbeat in the breast.

Перевод
http://stihi.ru/2025/09/18/470