Hush, little baby, don’t cry.

Come, let me hold you in my embrace.

Seek comfort here, in your safe place.

This place is far from being sly.

I will tell you a story,

How the Sun will spill orange in the sky

And will slowly turn yellow

While we can still see the blue clouds.

I can feel your cute, little, rapid breath

And your curious eyes stuck on my face,

Even though you are in my safe, motherly embrace,

Listening to the simple stories of nature without any disturbance.

You know, those trees,

As they rustle, they sing

And they—like us—breathe

Because both of us are living beings?

Hush, little baby, don’t cry.

I will narrate another story

If you don’t find this one to be of your type.

Let me tell me about how free are women

And how they have been born warriors.

You will also become one of them, I know,

when you will grow up

Because the stories of these women will be your educators.

Those stories will stay in your mind

To remind you that all women are Shakti,

All of them are parts of her manifestation.

Listen, little baby, to me, listen firsthand to the words of Adishakti.