Roaming About His Spotless Complexion

Roaming
about, his spotless complexion shining like the autumnal moon, gait like an
elephant's; Maddened
by Hari's love, formed of supreme existence, with a smiling mouth; His
eyes always rolling, a cowherd-stick in his hand, cutting through Kali; I
worship Nityananda, the infinite root of the tree of bhajan.

The
abode of rasas, matchless in the company of all of his own folk; He is
known as the sole life of Vasudha and Jahnava, their husband; Always
maddened by the supreme prema, unknown to the dim-witted; I
worship Nityananda, the infinite root of the tree of bhajan.

Dear
to the son of Saci, the worshipable deity of the whole world, laden with joy; The
infinitely compassionate cause of the deliverance of people immersed in Kali's
age; Declaring
the message of Hari, stealing away the rising pride of the mundane ocean; I
worship Nityananda, the infinite root of the tree of bhajan.

'O
brother, how much more imbued with sin will the people of Kali's age be? Please
see to a readily available means for their deliverance, For
approaching you.' In this way, he consulted the Lord. I
worship Nityananda, the infinite root of the tree of bhajan.

'Hey
brother! If you so will, always chant the names: Hari, Hari; Let
this be my gift for your crossing over the ocean of samsara.' In
this way, with raised arms, he walks from house to house, shouting; I
worship Nityananda, the infinite root of the tree of bhajan.

Alas,
he forcibly robs the ocean of samsara like Agastya who drank the ocean; The
rising moon, the friend of the lotus of the good fortune of the saints; The
splendor of the rising sun dissipating the darkness borne of the host of
demons; I
worship Nityananda, the infinite root of the tree of bhajan.

Dancing,
singing and uttering 'Hari', he roamed about roads and roads; He
roamed about selflessly, bestowing his favor on countless people; And
mercifully cast a slight glance at the saints from the corner of his eye. I
worship Nityananda, the infinite root of the tree of bhajan.

Fondly
holding the most tender lotus-hand of his brother, Together
giving rise to supreme joy in hearts with the vision of their faces, Alas!
They roamed about, maddening the towns' people with their sweetness. I
worship Nityananda, the infinite root of the tree of bhajan.

The
treasure of true Vaisnavas, the greatest of the rasikas who are reservoirs of
rasa; The
abode of the essence of rasa, the remembrance of which delivers countless
fallen souls; Whoever
recites this supreme and unprecedented Nityananda-astakam, Within
his heart Nitai's two lotus feet shall come to perpetually manifest!