O Lord over death,
in what sort of Tand'ava dance,
with what overwhelmingly high rhythm,
do You remain engrossed?

With the mark of decoration
and love in both Your eyes,
Your third eye remains glowing.

Under Your pounding weight,
the earth and heaven tremble.
In fear of You
all accumulated sins vanish away.
The Lord of destruction is dancing.

You opened the tuft of Your hair
to spread ashes on the burning foreheads
of all those who were polluting Your air,
extinguishing Your light,
contaminating Your pure drinking water
and trying to turn the earth into hell.