Beautiful is thy wristlet [German translation]

Beautiful is thy wristlet, decked with stars

and cunningly wrought in myriad-coloured jewels.

But more beautiful to me thy sword with its curve of lightning

like the outspread wings of the divine bird of Vishnu,

perfectly poised in the angry red light of the sunset.

It quivers like the one last response of life

in ecstasy of pain at the final stroke of death;

it shines like the pure flame of being

burning up earthly sense with one fierce flash.

Beautiful is thy wristlet, decked with starry gems;

but thy sword, O lord of thunder, is wrought with uttermost beauty,

terrible to behold or think of.