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.