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JAIN JOURNAL
Oh Best amongst the men of virtue ! Innumerable are thy virtues, white as a swan, A smile, a cluster of pearls, or as dew-drops fresh, Ever-spreading in radiance. Neither the Moon nor the brilliant Sun, Neither Hari?, Hara, nor even the creator, Brahma, Nor the enlightened Buddha himself, The so-called gods, equal thee. For their merits are not all white, without blemish. 3
Certain it is, oh Lord ! The creatures in the universe Floating in the ocean of mundane life With their sun-like conscience Clouded by indomitable lust Can never attain the state of liberation By leaving aside thy path. 4
Bow I to Vira ! The destroyer of haughty pride Of Sangamaka“, full of malice, Sun-like thou removeth all darkness covering conscience And lulleth himsā, as the moon lulls a lotus And thou like a sword killeth the seedling of ego Planted for ever in our heart. Bow I to Vira ! Thy forehead is like a crescent moon Thou art the finest abode of weal and purity Thou like a pig wild destroyeth the roots of fear And like a Savior Terminate the never-ending cycle of birth, age and death In the ocean of this mundane world. 5-6
Even a maiden with a tide of passion With her dainty frame bursting with lust With breasts full-grown pointed to the tip With jingling of tinkling anklets
? Visnu, the Preserver, in Hindu pantheon. 8 Siva, the Destroyer, in Hindu pantheon.
• Minor god of that name. He became jealous when Indra, Lord of Heaven, praised Mahavira's patience and austerities. He came down to earth and tried to disturb Mahavira's meditation by torturing him and inflicting pain, sometimes even by alluring him with heavenly damsels, but he failed.
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