The Poison and the Flame

Through moonlit dust and sacred breath, Nanda rides with silent death. He prays to Him with folded hands, The child of stars, of timeless lands. A demon so fair, with poisoned grace, Entered Gokula’s holy place. Her hips deceived, her smile betrayed, Yet Kṛṣṇa on her breastlight laid. O Govinda, breath of flame, In You all shadows lose their name. You suck the sin, You cleanse the air, You grant a witch a mother's care. She flew through winds with cursed rite, Black branches bore her through the night. But in His gaze, her powers died, She fed Him milk, and there she cried. Her screams split sky, her corpse immense, A storm of limbs and consequence. But all was calm within His eyes, Where mercy meets the demon’s cries. O Govinda, breath of flame, In You all shadows lose their name. You suck the sin, You cleanse the air, You grant a witch a mother's care. The gopīs ran with cow-borne light, To shield the child from dreamless night. With sacred names, they formed a shield, Though He, untouched, had made her yield. They saw her fall, they felt the ground, Twelve miles of bones and demon sound. But from the fire rose fragrant grace— Even death touched by His face. O Govinda, breath of flame, In You all shadows lose their name. You suck the sin, You cleanse the air, You grant a witch a mother's care. O Govinda, breath of flame, In You all shadows lose their name. O Govinda, breath of flame.