He wears a tiger skin upon his shoulders, He drinks the bitter moisture of cold nights from a skull And the salt of human secretions. He smears his body with the ash of burnt corpses, He lives on cremation grounds amidst stench and wailing. Like a child, he walks naked, Confusing the stars with his silence.
He is always alone, this mysterious wanderer, He laughs frantically, sitting by an extinguished fire. On the summits, he dances mad dances, In the forests, he sings mournful songs. Wildly rolling his eyes, he mutters strange tantras, He sits on bones, clutching his knees, in a mountain cave. He eats raw meat, washing it down with wine and buffalo urine...
Bats do not see him, But children love him sincerely. Incorporeal spirits serve him, Wild beasts do not fear him. Snakes are obedient to his beckoning, The great gods revere him. People turn their gaze away in fear, While sages eternally seek to meet him. Yogis exalt him in praise, Goddesses love him in midnight dreams. Kings bow their knees before him, The pious whisper prayers to him.
In his hands is the staff of wandering, In his ears are heavy earrings. His neck is entwined with sacred beads, His body is wrapped in the free wind. His heart is sprinkled with ash, His mind is thoroughly saturated with eternity. His gaze is frozen in silent infinity, His speech is melodic and strange. His eyes flash like lightning, His actions, like a child's, are spontaneous. And his body exudes a fragrance...
He walks upon the stars as if upon stones, He feeds on nectar and dew. He moves boulders and clouds, He flies freely, like the wind. He walks along the thin threads of time, Blows into the cracks between worlds, Creating miracles out of the void. Revered by powerful gods, Contemplator of the bottomless eternity...
Avadhuta.
