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प्रया प्रेमके अंक अलंकृत चित्त चतुरसिरोमणि निज कर ।
दंपति अति अनुराग मुदित कल गान करत मन हरत परस्पर ||
जे श्रीहितहरिवंश रसिक राधापति प्रमथित मैंन ॥
श्राजु निकुंजमंजु मैं बेलत नवलकिशोर नवीन किशोरीं ।
श्री अरुण तेरे नैन नलिन री |
अलमजुत इतरात रगमगे भए निमिजागर भनि मलिन री ||
सिथल पलकमै उठत गोलकगति विधयौ मोहन मृग सकत चलि न री । जे श्रीहितहरिवंश इंसकलगामिन संभ्रम देत भँवरिनी अलीन री ॥
॥ ९ ॥
वनी राधा मोहनकी जारी ।
इंद्रनीलमणि स्याम मनोहर सातकुंभ तन गोरी ॥
भाल विसाल तिलक हरि कामिनि चिकुरचंद विचरोरी | गज नाइक प्रभु चाल गयंदनि गति वृषभानु किसेारी ॥ नील निचोल जुवति मोहन पटपीत अरुण सिर घोरी । जे श्रीहितहरिवंश रसिक राधापति सु रत रंग मैं बेोरी ॥
॥ १० ॥
कहा कहाँ अंग अंग परममाधुरी ।
॥ ११ ॥
अरुन पीत नव दुकूल अनुपम अनुरागमूल
॥ १२ ॥
विलसह भुज ग्रीव मेलि भामिनि सुषसिंधु झेलि
Translation of the first twelve Stanzas of the Chaurási Pada.
"Whatever my Beloved doeth is pleasing to me; and whatever is
pleasing to me, that my Beloved doeth. The place where I would be is in my Beloved's eyes; and my Beloved would fain be the apple of my eyes.
My Love is dearer to me than body, soul, or life; and my Love would lose a thousand lives for me. Rejoice, Srí Hit Hari Vans! the loving pair, one dark, one fair, are like two cygnets; tell me who can separate wave from water ?*
II. "O my Beloved, has the fair spoken ? this is surely a beautiful night; the lightning is folded in the lusty cloud's embrace. O friend, where is the woman who could quarrel with so exquisite a prince of gallants? Rejoice, Sri Hit Hari Vans! dear Rádhiká hearkened with her ears and with voluptuous emotion joined in love's delights.†
III. “At day-break the wanton pair, crowned with victory in love's conflict, were all exuberant. On her face are frequent beads of labour's dew, and all the adornments of her person are in disarray, the paint-spot on her brow is all but effaced by heat, and the straggling curls upon her lotus face resemble roaming bees. (Rejoice, Sri Hit Hari Vans!) her eyes are red with love's colours and her voice and loins feeble and relaxed.
IV. "Your face, fair dame, to-day is full of joy, betokening your happiness and delight in the intercourse with your Beloved. Your voice is languid and tremulous, your cheeks aflame, and both your weary eyes are red with sleeplessness; your pretty tilak half effaced, the flowers on your head faded, and the parting of your hair as if you had never made it at all. The Bountiful one of his grace refused you no boon, as you coyly took the hem of your robe between your teeth. Why shrink away so demurely ? you have changed clothes with your Beloved, and the dark-hued swain has subdued you as completely as though he had been tutored by a hundred. Loves. The garland on his breast is faded, the clasp of his waist-belt loose (Rejoice, Sri Hit Hari Vans!) as he comes from his couch in the bower.
V. "To-day at dawn there was a shower of rapture in the bower, where the happy pair were delighting themselves, one dark, one fair, bright with all gay colours, as she tripped with dainty foot upon the floor. Great Syám, the glorious lord of love, had his flower wreath stained with the saffron dye of her breasts, and was embellished with the scratches of his darling's nails; she too was marked by the hands of her jewel of lovers. The happy pair in an ecstasy of affection make sweet song, stealing cach other's heart (Rejoice, Sri Hit Hari Vans!) the bard is fain to praise, but the drone of a bee is as good as his ineffectual rhyme.
* That is to say: it is nothing strange that Rádhá and Krishna should take such mutual delight in one another, since they are in fact one and arc as inseparable as a wave and the water of which the wave is composed.
† The first line is a question put to Krishna by one of Rádhá's maids, asking him if her mistress had promised him an interview. The second line is a remark which she turns and makes to one of her own companions,
VI. "Who so clever, pretty damsel, whom her lover comes to meet, stealing through the night? Why shrink so coyly at my words? Your eyes are suffused and red with love's excitement, your bosom is marked with his nails, you are dressed in his clothes, and your voice is tremulous. (Rejoice, Sri Hit Hari Vans !) Rádhá's amorous lord has been mad with love.
VII. "To-day the lusty swain and blooming dame are sporting in their pleasant bower. O list! great and incomparable is the mutual affection of the happy pair, on the heavenly* plain of Brindaban. The ground gleams bright with coral and crystal and there is a strong odour of camphor. A dainty couch of soft leaves is spread, on which the dark groom and his fair bride recline, intent upon the joys and delights of dalliance, their lotus cheeks stained with red streaks of betel juice. There is a charming struggle between dark hands and fair to loose the string that binds her skirt. Beholding herself as in a mirror in the necklace on Hari's breast, the silly girl is troubled by delusion and begins to fret, till her lover wagging his pretty chin shews her that she has been looking only at her own shadow. Listening to her honeyed voice, as again and again she cries 'Nay, nay,' Lalitá and the others take a furtive peep (Rejoice, Sri Hit Hari Vans !) till tossing her hands in affected passion she snaps his jewelled necklet.
VIII. "Ah, red indeed are your lotus eyes, lazily languishing and inflamed by night-long watch, and their collyrium all faded. From your drooping eyelids shoots a glance like a bolt, that strikes your swain as it were a deer and he cannot stir. (Rejoice, Sri Hit Hari Vans!) O damsel voluptuous in motion as the swan, your eyes deceive even the wasps and bees.
IX. "Rádhá and Mohan are such a dainty pair, he dark and beautiful as the sapphire, she with body of golden lustre ; Hari with a tilak on his broad forehead and the fair with a roli streak amidst the tresses of her hair: the lord like a stately elephant in gait and the daughter of Vrishabhánu like an elephant queen: the damsel in a blue vesture and Mohan in yellow with a red khaur on his forehead (Rejoice, Sri Hit Hari Vans !) Rádhá's amorous lord is dyed deep with love's colours.
X. "To-day the damsel and her swain take delight in novel ways. What can I say? they are altogether exquisite in every limb; sporting together with arms about each other's neck and cheek to cheek, by such delicious contact making a circle of wanton delight. As they dance, the dark swain and the fair damsel, pipe and drum and cymbal blend in sweet concert with the tinkling of the bangles on her wrists and ankles and the girdle round her waist. Sri Hit Hari Vans, rejoicing at the sight of the damsels' dancing and their measured paces, tears his soul from his body and lays them both at their feet.
* Abhút, not created, self-produced, divine.