At this time, the gods betake themselves to Brahma, the Creator, and sing a hymn of praise, a part of which is given here.
Before creation, thou art one; Three, when creation's work is done: All praise and honour unto thee In this thy mystic trinity.Three various forms and functions three Proclaim thy living majesty; Thou dost create, and then maintain, And last, destroyest all again.Thy slow recurrent day and night Bring death to all, or living light. We live beneath thy waking eye; Thou sleepest, and thy creatures die.Solid and fluid, great and small, And light and heavy--Thou art all; Matter and form are both in thee: Thy powers are past discovery.[]Thou art the objects that unroll Their drama for the passive soul; Thou art the soul that views the play Indifferently, day by day.Thou art the knower and the known; Eater and food art thou alone; The priest and his oblation fair; The prayerful suppliant and the prayer.Brahma receives their worship graciously, and asks the reason of their coming. The spokesman of the gods explains to Brahma how a great demon named Taraka is troubling the world, and how helpless they are in opposing him. They have tried the most extravagant propitiation, and found it useless.
The sun in heaven dare not glow With undiminished heat, but so As that the lilies may awake Which blossom in his pleasure-lake.The wind blows gently as it can To serve him as a soothing fan, And dare not manifest its power, Lest it should steal a garden flower.The seasons have forgotten how To follow one another now; They simultaneously bring Him flowers of autumn, summer, spring.Such adoration makes him worse; He troubles all the universe: Kindness inflames a rascal's mind; He should be recompensed in kind.And all the means that we have tried Against the rogue, are brushed aside, As potent herbs have no avail When bodily powers begin to fail.We seek a leader, O our Lord, To bring him to his just reward-- As saints seek evermore to win Virtue, to end life's woe and sin--That he may guide the heavenly host, And guard us to the uttermost, And from our foe lead captive back The victory which still we lack.Brahma answers that the demon's power comes from him, and he does not feel at liberty to proceed against it; "for it is not fitting to cut down even a poison-tree that one's own hand has planted." But he promises that a son shall be born to Shiva and Parvati, who shall lead the gods to victory. With this answer the gods are perforce content, and their king, Indra, waits upon the god of love, to secure his necessary co-operation.