Pasuram 7.7.9

Tamil text and transliteration:

கொள்கின்ற கோள் இருளைச் சுகிர்ந்திட்ட கொழும் சுருளின்,
உள்கொண்ட நீல நல் நூல் தழைகொல்? அன்று மாயன் குழல்,
விள்கின்ற பூந்தண்துழாய் விரை நாற வந்து என் உயிரைக்,
கள்கின்றவாறு அறியீர் அன்னைமீர்! கழறாநிற்றிரே.

koḷkiṉṟa kōḷ iruḷaic cukirntiṭṭa koḻum curuḷiṉ,
uḷkoṇṭa nīla nal nūl taḻaikol? aṉṟu māyaṉ kuḻal,
viḷkiṉṟa pūntaṇtuḻāy virai nāṟa vantu eṉ uyiraik,
kaḷkiṉṟavāṟu aṟiyīr aṉṉaimīr! kaḻaṟāniṟṟirē.

English translation of verse 7.7.9:

Is it that pitched darkness enveloping the whole world,
Compressed into dark-blue thread, neatly packed and rolled?
No, these are the lovely strands of hair of my wondrous Lord
Wafting the sweet fragrance of tuḷaci, cool and nice,
You, elders, know not how it steals away my life
And saying one thing or another, me you just chide.

Note

It is indeed a grand poetic imagery, the comparison of the peerless beauty of the Lord’s locks. If the unwholesome part of the grim darkness, that gripped the entire universe, during the great deluge, were weeded out, the rest could be compressed into nice, dark-blue rolls, like unto cotton strands from which yarn is spun. Attempting a comparison like this unto the Lord’s lovely locks, the Saint realises that comparisons, as a rule, are much-too-feeble when it is a matter of describing the Lord’s beauty galore, defying description and he would, therefore, simply call them the locks of the wondrous Lord.