On the eve of the dawn of kaliyuga,
A distressed Bhoomidevi stood before Brahma,
In the form of a disconsolate cow.
I seek refuge in you my lord, rid me of my burden.
Brahma turned to Vishnu for guidance.
I know of her distress, he said.
Shesha and I shall come to earth,
Born as the seventh and eight sons of Vasudeva,
I will free her from these chains.
Kamsa the tyrant shall fall,
A heavenly voice did prophesize,
His death by the eight son of Devaki.
As he raised his sword to slay her,
The hand of Vasudeva did stop him.
A promise was made to spare her life,
To you we give every child that is born.
And so they were slain,
The first six sons who were born.
The seventh one, cloaked in deceit,
Misleading Kamsa to believe it was lost.
Vishnu appeared, and said,
Leave me on the bed of Yashodha,
And bring back the girl that has been born.
And so the eight child was born,
The king he stormed in.
Spare this child for it is only a girl,
Let me keep her, dear brother.
Kamsa paid no heed as he snatched the infant,
And dashed it to the ground.
The spirit of Yogamaya rose,
Oh foolish one, your destroyer lives elsewhere.
Several asuras were sent over time,
To Gokul, home to Krishna and Balarama.
Each of them vanquished, destroyed,
The king was left in dismay.
A challenge to bend a bow,
Krishna did not bend, but break it.
A wrestling bout with champions,
Victorious did Krishna remain.
A furious Kamsa did try to run in vain,
At the hands of Krishna, he was slain.