Shiva Tandava Stotram

jaṭāṭavīgalajjalapravāhapāvitasthale gale’valambya lambitāṃ bhujaṅgatuṅgamālikām |
ḍamaḍḍamaḍḍamaḍḍamanninādavaḍḍamarvayaṃ cakāra caṇḍataṇḍavaṃ tanotu naḥ śivaḥ śivam ||

Where water flows from His tangled hair like a river from a forest, purifying the ground — He wears a great serpent as a garland around His neck.
To the continuous "Damat Damat" beat of His drum, He dances the fierce Tāṇḍava. May Lord Shiva bless us all with auspiciousness.

jaṭākaṭāhasambhramabhramannilimpanirjharī vilolavīcivallarīvirājamānamūrdhani |
dhagaddhagaddhagajjvalallalāṭapaṭṭapāvake kiśoracandraśekhare ratiḥ pratikṣaṇaṃ mama ||

His huge tangled hair spins like a great pot, churning the heavenly Ganga within it, whose flowing waves adorn His magnificent head.
The fire of His third eye blazes on His forehead with a roaring "Dhagad Dhagad" sound, and a young crescent moon shines on His crown. I feel ever-growing love for this Lord at every moment.

dharādharendranandinīvilāsabandhubandhura sphuraddigantasantatipramodamānamānase |
kṛpākaṭākṣadhoraṇīniruddhadurdharapādi kvaciddigambare mano vinodametu vastuni ||

He who lovingly sports alongside Pārvati, the mountain king's daughter — His joy-filled consciousness resonates throughout the entire universe to its farthest reaches.
A single compassionate glance from Him stops even the greatest calamities. He wears only the sky as His garment, free of all worldly bonds. May my mind take joy in such a Lord.

jaṭābhujaṅgapiṅgalasphuratphaṇāmaṇiprabhā kadambakuṅkumadravapraliptadigvadhūmukhe |
madāndhasindhurasphuratvaguttarīyamedure mano vinodamadbhutaṃ bibhartu bhūtabhartari ||

The brownish-red snakes in His hair raise their gem-studded hoods, and their ruby glow paints the entire sky red — like saffron paste smeared on the faces of the sky-goddesses.
He wears the fluttering skin of a huge intoxicated elephant as His shawl. May my mind find extraordinary wonder and delight in that Lord who sustains all living beings.

sahasralocanaprabhṛtyaśeṣalekhaśekhara prasūnadhūlidhoraṇī vidhūsarāṅghripīṭhabhūḥ |
bhujaṅgarājamālayā nibaddhajaṭājūṭakaḥ śriyai cirāya jāyatāṃ cakorabandhuśekharaḥ ||

Indra and all the gods bow their heads before Him; the flowers from their bowed heads rain down so continuously that the ground beneath His feet turns grey with flower dust.
The great serpent Vāsuki binds His matted hair like a garland. May this Lord, whose crest-jewel is the moon, forever bless us with prosperity and grace.

lalāṭacatvarajvaladdhanañjayasphuliṅgabhā nipītapañcasāyakaṃ namannilimpanāyakam |
sudhāmayūkhalekhayā virājamānaśekharaṃ mahākapālisampade śirojaṭālamastu naḥ ||

The blazing fire on His forehead (His third eye) destroyed Kāma, the god of love, with its sparks. All the leaders of the gods bow down before such a Lord.
A beautiful crescent moon shines upon His head like a stroke of nectar. May the matted hair of the great skull-bearing Śiva bring us the wealth of spiritual powers.

karālabhālapaṭṭikādhagaddhagaddhagajjvalad dhanañjayāhutīkṛtapracaṇḍapañcasāyake |
dharādharendranandinīkucāgracitrapatraka prakalpanaikaśilpini trilocane ratirmama ||

The fire on His terrible forehead roars "Dhagad Dhagad" and burned up the powerful Kāmadeva — the god of love with his five arrows — as if offering him into a sacrificial fire.
He is the only artist who lovingly draws exquisite patterns on the bosom of Pārvati (representing His act of creation on earth). My mind is absorbed in devotion to that three-eyed Lord.

navīnameghamaṇḍalī niruddhadurdharasphurat kuhūniśthinītamaḥ prabandhabandhakandharaḥ |
nilimpanirjharīdharastanotu kṛttisindhuraḥ kalānidhānabandhuraḥ śriyaṃ jagaddhurandharaḥ ||

His throat is wrapped in the deep blackness of a new-moon midnight, held like a collar of thick fresh rain-clouds — making Him the dark-throated Nīlakaṇṭha.
He carries the Ganga in His hair, wears elephant skin, holds the crescent moon, and supports the entire universe. May such a great Lord extend His grace and prosperity to us.

praphullanīlapaṅkajaprapañcakālimaprabhā valambikanṭhakandanīruciprabaddhakhandharam |
smaracchidaṃ puracchidaṃ bhavacchidaṃ makhacchidaṃ gajacchidāndhakacchidaṃ tamantakacchidaṃ bhaje ||

His throat is adorned with a radiance dark as the fully bloomed blue lotus — the beautiful darkness of the Hālāhala poison He drank — hanging about His neck like a luminous garland.
I worship the Lord who destroyed Kāma, burned the three demon cities, cut away worldly bonds, stopped Dakṣa's sacrifice, killed the elephant-demon, slew Andhaka, and even overcame Yama, the god of death.

akharvasarvamaṅgalākalākadambamañjarī rasapravāhamādhurīvijṛmbhaṇāmadhuvratam |
smarāntakaṃ purāntakaṃ bhavāntakaṃ makhāntakaṃ gajāntakāndhakāntakaṃ tamantakāntakaṃ bhaje ||

Like a bee drawn to a cluster of Kadamba blossoms, He revels in the sweet, overflowing nectar of all the auspicious arts of creation — for He is the inexhaustible source of all goodness.
I worship Him who ended Kāma, the Tripuras, worldly existence, Dakṣa's sacrifice, Gajāsura, Andhaka, and even death itself — the all-ending, supreme Lord Śiva.

jayatvadabhravibhramabhramadbhujaṅgamaśvasad vinirgamatkramasphuratkarālabhālahavyavāṭ |
dhimiddhimiddhimidhvananmṛdaṅgatuṅgamaṅgala dhvanikramapravartitapracaṇḍataṇḍavaḥ śivaḥ ||

Victory to Śiva! His eyebrows sweep with divine authority; His serpents hiss and breathe fire; the third eye on His terrible forehead blazes like an altar, fed by each successive breath of the serpents.
The great mṛdaṅga drum beats "Dhimid Dhimid" with high auspicious resonance, and to that series of beats Śiva dances His fierce and magnificent Tāṇḍava. Glory to such Śiva!

dṛṣadvicitratalpayor bhujaṅgamauktikasrajor gariṣṭharatnaloṣṭayoḥ suhṛdvipakṣapakṣayoḥ |
tṛṇāravindacakṣuṣoḥ prajāmahīmahendrayoḥ samapravṛttikaḥ kadā sadāśivaṃ bhajāmyaham ||

When will I look equally at a stone floor and a fine bed? When will a snake garland and a pearl necklace feel the same? When will a lump of mud and a priceless gem feel equal? When will friend and enemy be the same to me?
When will I see grass and lotus as equally beautiful? When will a common person and a great emperor seem equally important? Only with such perfect equanimity will I truly worship the eternally auspicious Sadāśiva.

kadā nilimpanirjharīnikuñjakoṭare vasan vimuktadurmatiḥ sadā śiraḥsthamañjaliṃ vahan |
vimuktalolalocano lalāmabhālalagnakaḥ śiveti mantramuccaran kadā sukhī bhavāmyaham ||

When will I be truly happy, living in a cave by the holy Ganga, free from all negative thoughts, always holding my hands folded in prayer upon my head in constant devotion?
With my restless eyes stilled, the sacred mark on my forehead, and the mantra "Śiva" always on my lips — when will I attain such pure and lasting happiness?

imaṃ hi nityamevamuktamuktamottamaṃ stavaṃ paṭhansmaran bruvannaro viśuddhimeti santatam |
hare gurau subhaktimāśu yāti nānyathā gatiṃ vimohanaṃ hi dehināṃ suśaṅkarasya cintanam ||

Whoever reads, contemplates, and chants this greatest of hymns is continuously and perpetually purified, inside and out.
He quickly gains deep devotion to Śiva as the supreme Guru — and there is no other refuge. The mere thought of auspicious Śaṅkara removes all delusion from the hearts of all living beings.

pūjāvasānasamaye daśavaktragītaṃ yaḥ śambhupūjanaparaṃ paṭhati pradoṣe |
tasya sthirāṃ rathagajendraturaṅgayuktāṃ lakṣmīṃ sadaiva sumukhīṃ pradadāti śambhuḥ ||

Whoever recites this hymn of ten-headed Rāvaṇa in devotion to Lord Śambhu at the end of worship during the sacred Pradoṣa evening hour—
To such a devotee, Lord Śambhu grants lasting prosperity — symbolised by a smiling Goddess Lakṣmī with chariots, elephants, and horses — wealth and good fortune that never leaves.