Part Six: Indolent Krishna

 

The girlfriend then returning, finding Rádhá
languishing within her leafy bower,
returned once more to Krishna, telling him
that, though she longed for him, she would not come.

Twelfth Song

 

Rádhá sees you everywhere
as drinking sweetness of her lip.
Rádhá serves you in her house.

Moving in her haste to meet you
she takes her little steps and falls.
Rádhá's waiting in her house.

With bracelets of white lotus shoots
she keeps alive that doubtful love.
Rádhá's waiting in her house.

As I am ornament in play,
she says, I'm Krishna too in this.
Rádhá's waiting in her house.

Why won't Hari haste to me?
incessantly she asks her friend.
Rádhá's waiting in her house.

The dark she kisses, hugs the clouds,
from which she thinks her Hari comes.
Rádhá's waiting in her house.

She moans and wails and decks herself,
all modesty now thrown away.
Rádhá's waiting in her house.

May the pride of Jayadeva
spread to all who have his taste.
Rádhá's waiting in her house.

In boundless ecstasy she bristles, brings
a note of lamentation to her voice.
On you, her great deceiver and her treasure,
the fawn-eyed woman meditates and clings.

She ornaments her body, has each leaf
announce your coming, makes her couch a hundred
times anticipating you in love:
alone this beauty cannot pass the night.

 

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