I Bow to thee, Mother,
 richly-watered, richly-fruited,
cool with the winds of the south,
dark with the crops of the harvests,
The Mother!
her nights rejoicing in the glory if the
moonlight,
Her lands clothed beautifully with her
trees in flowering bloom,
sweet of laughter, sweet of speech,
the mother, give of boons, giver of bliss!
Terrible with the clamorous shout of seventy million
Throats, and the sharpness of swords raised in twice
 seventy million hands, who sayeth to thee, Mother,
that thou art weak?
Holder of multitudinous strength bow to her who saves,
 to her who drives from her the armies of her foemen,
 the Mother!
Thou art knowledge, thou art conduct, thou art heart,
thou art soul, for thou art the life in our body.
In the arm thou art might, O mother, in the heart,
O Mother, thou art love and faith,
it is thy image we raise in every temple.
For thou art Durga holding her ten weapons of war,
 Kamala at play the the lotuses and speech,
 the goddess, giver of all love to thee I bow!
I bow to thee, goddess of wealth pure and peerless,
richly watered, richly fruited, the Mother!
I bow to thee Mother, dark hued candid, sweetly smiling jewelled and adorned the holder of wealth, the lady of plenty,
the Mother!

Sri Aurobindo Birth Centenary Library.
Vol.8, 1972 PP 311-14

Special Thanks To Shri Milind Subnis.