Punarmilna O Rasodgāra

CXXVII.

Rādhā: When Hari comes to Gokula town, In every house shall the trumpets flourish 'Victory'! I shall give my necklace of pearls for festal knots, And my heavy breasts as festal urns.

I shall offer my nipples as sprouts of the scented mango, In Mādhava's service I shall achieve my heart's desires: I will set before my beloved incense and light and gifts, And do the anointing with tears of joy from my eyes!

My outstretched hands shall embrace my dear. Vidyāpati says: This is loves ecstasy.

CXXVIII.

Radha: When my dear and blissful lover comes to my garth, I shall turn my back with a little smile: Wildly my darling will grasp my wimple,-- And I shall draw back, for all he may do!

And when my belovéd asks me to play, Then shall my smiling mouth refuse: When he shall roughly clasp my breasts, My hands shall restrain his hands, half-glances belying.

For my lover, the proper man is a bee, Holding my cheeks will drink the honey of my lips,-- Then shall he ravish my every sense! Vidyāpati says: Your life is blest!

CXXIX.

Rādhā: When Kāna shall come to my house, I shall gaze on his moon-face with swimming eyes: When as a woman I say 'Nay, nay,' Then shall Murāri woo me more wildly!

He will take my hands and set me down on his lap, He will soothe my heart for endless time: I shall clasp him close, casting out coldness, He will fill me with balm, I shall close my eyes!

Vidyāpati says: Lo, lovely lady, Fie on this brazen love of yours!

CXXX.

Rādhā: I spent last night in bliss, I saw my darling's moon-face: Meseemed my life and youth bore fruit, The ten directions were filled with joy.

I thought to-day that my home was made a home, To-day my body became a body indeed: Fate has been friendly to me to-day, And all my doubts are dissolved.

Now let the koil call a hundred thousand times, A hundred thousand moons may rise! Now let the arrows-five become a hundred thousand, And southern breezes sigh their softest!

Now for so long as he leaves me not So long I deem my body is verily mine, Vidyāpati says: Your bliss is not little, Blessing upon your love renewed!

CXXXI.

Rādhā: How shall I tell of my boundless joy, my dear,-- Mādhav abiding day after day in my house? Just so much as the wicked moon annoyed me before, Even so much was the joy when I saw my darling's face.

Even if I might fold in my wimple the best of treasures, I would not let go my beloved into a far-away land: A shawl in the winter is my beloved, a gentle breeze in the summer, My dear is a shelter from the storm, and a boat on the river.

Vidyāpati says: Lo, lovely lady, The grief of the goodly endures not for ever.

CXXXII.

Rādhā: The hurt that the Lord of the Seasons erstwhile did me, All has departed at sight of Hari's face! All hopes and desires that were in my heart, All are achieved in my Lover's kindness.

When I lay in His arms every hair of my body was glad, In the dew of His lips my grieving melted away: Fate has fulfilled the hope of all the days of my life,-- From bending my eyes upon Him I know no rest.

Vidyāpati says: There is grief at an end, No sickness remains when the cure has been found.

CXXXIII.

Sakhī: Fate is now friendly for ever more! Each on the other's countenance gazing, twain are rapt--

Each in the other's arms the other enfolds-- Twain are the mouths contented each with the nectar of other's lips.

Twain are the bodies a-tremble at Madan's behest, The jingle of jewels is heard again in the house!

What more should I say, Vidyāpati asks: So as their love is, so is their loving.

CXXXIV.

Sakhī: Rare was that meeting of one with the other, The grief of disunion vanished afar: He has taken her hand and put her down on the painted seat, The jewel-Shyāma disports with the jewel-damsel!

In many wise playing with diverse delights, The bee, as it were, with the lotus delaying: Eyes upon eyes and face upon face, A chorus of twain entranced by each other's perfections!

Vidyāpati says: The Lover is rapt, The Love-thief has conquered the Triple Worlds!

CXXXV.

Rādhā: A mirror in hand, a flower in my hair, Surm of my eyes, tāmbūl of my mouth, Musk on my breast, a necklace about my throat, All the gear on my body, the life of my house.

Wings to the bird, and water to fish, Life of my life--I know Thou art these-- But tell me, O Mādhav, what art Thou in sooth? Avers Vidyāpati: Each is both.

CXXXVL.

Rādhā: What would you ask of my feelings, my dear,-- Can I expound such love and affection As are moment by moment transformed?

From the day of my birth I have seen His beauty, And yet are my eyes unsatisfied: My ears have continually heard His honeyed speech, But I have not attained the path of audition.

Many a night have I passed in play, And never have learnt what is dalliance: Myriad aeons I held Him close to my heart, And yet no rest has reached that heart.

How many a one tormented and passion-tost I have seen--without seeing! Vidyāpati says: For your heart's ease You have met with One who is nonpareil.

CXXXVII.

Kavi: Hearken, O Mādhava, what more can I say? Nought can I find to compare with love:

Though the sun of the East should rise in the West, Yet would not love be far from the worthy,

Or if I should write the stars of heaven on earth, Or if I could pour from my hands the water of all the sea.

Vidyāpati says: O Shivasimha Rāi, To abandon the loving is ever unmeet.

CXXXIII.

Kavi: Frenzied tresses encircling her radiant face-- It is Rāhu desiring the orb of the moon: Flowers of her hair with her necklace entwined, As the Jamunā joins with the waters of Gangā.

The twain beyond speech are out of all reason, The loveling disports with most ardent passion: Eagerly fair-face kisses love-face, The bending moon drinks up the lotus.

Her face is adorned with a bead of sweat-- Madan has offered a pearl to the moon: Long is the necklace that hangs on her breasts-- It is pouring its milk into golden jars.

The chains on her hips are loudly jingling-- Madan is sounding pæans of conquest. Vidyāpati says: O amorous lady, Your skill in love's lore surpasses my speech!

END.