Ambāstotram: Hymn to the Divine Mother
by Swami Vivekananda

This beautiful hymn to the Divine Mother was composed in Sanskrit by Swami Vivekananda. The translation is by Swami Ashokananda.

॥ अम्बास्तोत्रम्‌॥
का त्वं शुभे शिवकरे सुखदुःखहस्ते
आघूर्णितं भवजलं प्रबलोर्मिभङ्गैः।
शांतिं विधातुमिह किं बहुधा विभग्नाम्‌
मतः प्रयत्नपरमासि सदैव विश्वे॥१॥

सम्पादयत्यविरतं त्वविरामवृत्ता
या वै स्थिता कृतफलं त्वकृतस्य नेत्री।
सा मे भवत्वनुदिनं वरदा भवानी
जानाम्यहं ध्रुवमिदं धृतकर्मपाशा॥२॥

को वा धर्मः किमकृतं कः कपाललेखः
किंवादृष्ट फलमिहास्ति हि यां विना भोः।
इच्छापाशैर्नियमिता नियमाः स्वतन्त्रैः
यस्या नेत्री भवतु सा शरणं ममाद्या॥३॥

सन्तानयन्ति जलधिं जनिमृत्युजालं
सम्भावयन्त्यविकृतं विकृतं विभग्नम्‌।
यस्या विभूतय इहामितशक्तिपालाः
नाश्रित्य तां वद कुतः शरणं व्रजामः॥४॥

मित्रे शत्रौ त्वविषमं तव पद्मनेत्रम्‌
स्वस्थे दुःस्थे त्ववितथं तव हस्तपातः।
मृत्युच्छाया तव दया त्वमृतञ्च मातः
मा मां मुञ्चन्तु परमे शुभदृष्टयस्ते॥५॥

क्वाम्बा सर्वा क्व गृणनं मम हीनबुद्धेः
धत्तुं दोर्भ्यामिव मतिर्जगदेकधात्रीम्‌।
श्रीसञ्चिन्त्यं सुचरणमभयपतिष्ठं
सेवासारैरभिनुतं शरणं प्रपद्ये॥६॥

या मामाजन्म विनयत्यतिदुःखमार्गैः
आसंसिद्धेः स्वकलितैर्ललितैर्विलासैः।
या मे बुद्धिं सुविदधे सततं धरण्यां
साम्बा सर्वा मम गतिः सफलेऽफले वा॥७॥

|| ambāstotram ||
kā tvaṁ śubhe śivakare sukhaduḥkhahaste
āghūrṇitaṁ bhavajalaṁ prabalormibhaṅgaiḥ |
śāṁtiṁ vidhātumiha kiṁ bahudhā vibhagnām
mataḥ prayatnaparamāsi sadaiva viśve ||1||

sampādayatyavirataṁ tvavirāmavṛttā
yā vai sthitā kṛtaphalaṁ tvakṛtasya netrī |
sā me bhavatvanudinaṁ varadā bhavānī
jānāmyahaṁ dhruvamidaṁ dhṛtakarmapāśā ||2||

ko vā dharmaḥ kimakṛtaṁ kaḥ kapālalekhaḥ
kiṁvādṛṣṭa phalamihāsti hi yāṁ vinā bhoḥ |
icchāpāśairniyamitā niyamāḥ svatantraiḥ
yasyā netrī bhavatu sā śaraṇaṁ mamādyā ||3||

santānayanti jaladhiṁ janimṛtyujālaṁ
sambhāvayantyavikṛtaṁ vikṛtaṁ vibhagnam |
yasyā vibhūtaya ihāmitaśaktipālāḥ
nāśritya tāṁ vada kutaḥ śaraṇaṁ vrajāmaḥ ||4||

mitre śatrau tvaviṣamaṁ tava padmanetram
svasthe duḥsthe tvavitathaṁ tava hastapātaḥ |
mṛtyucchāyā tava dayā tvamṛtañca mātaḥ
mā māṁ muñcantu parame śubhadṛṣṭayaste ||5||

kvāmbā sarvā kva gṛṇanaṁ mama hīnabuddheḥ
dhattuṁ dorbhyāmiva matirjagadekadhātrīm |
śrīsañcintyaṁ sucaraṇamabhayapatiṣṭhaṁ
sevāsārairabhinutaṁ śaraṇaṁ prapadye ||6||

yā māmājanma vinayatyatiduḥkhamārgaiḥ
āsaṁsiddheḥ svakalitairlalitairvilāsaiḥ |
yā me buddhiṁ suvidadhe satataṁ dharaṇyāṁ
sāmbā sarvā mama gatiḥ saphale’phale vā ||7||

A Hymn to the Mother

by Swami Vivekananda
(translated from the Sanskrit)

O beautiful, auspicious One, holding in Thy hands pleasure and pain—
  who art Thou?
The waters of existence are whirled to mighty bursting waves—
Is it, O Mother, to restore the shattered calm
That Thou art ceaselessly active in the universe?

To friend and foe Thy lotus eyes are even;
On fortunate and unfortunate Thou layest Thy hand alike;
Deathlessness and the shadow of death are equally Thy mercy.
O Mother, O supreme One, may Thy gracious glances never forsake me!

May She, whose action knows no respite,
Who constantly brings about the fruit of actions done, and shapes actions yet to be,
May She always bestow Her blessings upon me!
She it is, I know certainly, who holds the ropes of karma.

Without Her, where is virtue, where vice?
Where is destiny—“the writing on the forehead”?
Without Her, where is action, where the fruit of action?
May She, the cords of whose sovereign will control all laws,
May She, the Primal One, shelter me everlastingly!
Oh, where shall I find refuge save in Her,
  whose glories manifest in the universe in powers immeasurable,
Whose powers swell the ocean of birth and death
And transform the immutable into the changing and divided?

How infinitely great is the Mother, and how inadequate the praise I sing of Her—
  I, so poor of understanding!
It is as if I desired to seize with my hands the sole Sustainer of the universe!
So, at Her blessed feet, the abode of fearlessness,
Meditated on by the very goddess of grace and glory,
Adored by those devoted to Her service—I take refuge.

Whether I succeed or fail,
She, who has ever inspired my understanding on the earth,
Who, devising sweet playful ways, has led me, since by birth,
Along the most painful paths to Perfection—
She, the Mother, the All, is my refuge.

from The Voice of India, published by the
Vedanta Society of Northern California in the 1940s.