Part Nine: Languishing Krishna

 

To her so separated, passion broken,
hurt by Hari, now the girlfriend said:

Eighteenth Song

 

Hari's speaking is as first month breezes;
what further pleasure can there be, my friend?
Why scorn the purposes of Mádhava?

In essence fuller than the fan-palm fruit,
why won't you press on him those pitcher breasts?
Why scorn the purposes of Mádhava?

How soon and many times, must I repeat:
do not withhold yourself from Hari's gifts.
Why scorn the purposes of Mádhava?

Why such a spectacle of prostrate grieving?
Your whole community of girls is laughing.
Why scorn the purposes of Mádhava?

A bed of cool and watery lotus leaves
has Hari: feast on what your eyes have seen.
Why scorn the purposes of Mádhava?

Why conjure up such heavy thoughts, but hear
the parting words unwanted that I bear.
Why scorn the purposes of Mádhava?

When Hari comes to speak melodiously
why would you make your heart so solitary?
Why scorn the purposes of Mádhava?

Let then Hari's amorousness expressed
by Jayadeva move the man of taste.
Why scorn the purposes of Mádhava?

* * *

He's friendly, bows. You are unkind. He lifts
his face, you turn away. Perverse, you make
of sandal paste a poison, frost a fire,
moon's coolness sun, and love a suffering.

 

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