[ {"source_document": "", "creation_year": 1428, "culture": " English\n", "content": "Produced by James Simmons\nVIDY\u0100PATI\nVIDY\u0100PATI: BANG\u012aYA PAD\u0100BALI\nSONGS OF THE LOVE OF R\u0100DH\u0100 AND KRISHNA TRANSLATED\nINTO ENGLISH BY ANANDA COOMARASWAMY AND\nARUN SEN WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES AND\nILLUSTRATIONS FROM INDIAN PAINTINGS\nLONDON: THE OLD BOURNE PRESS,\n15 HOLBORN, E.C.\nThe whole creation will be consumed and appear infinite and holy,\nwhereas it now appears finite and corrupt. This will come to pass by an\nimprovement of sensual enjoyment.\nBe drunken with love, for love is all that exists.\nTABLE OF CONTENTS\nINTRODUCTION\nKRISHNA P\u016aRBBAR\u0100GA: The First Passion of Krishna\nR\u0100DH\u0100 BAYAHSANDI: The Growing-up of R\u0101dh\u0101\nR\u0100DH\u0100 P\u016aRBBAR\u0100GA: The First Passion of R\u0101dh\u0101\nSAKH\u012a-SHIKSH\u0100-BACAN\u0100DI: The Counsel of Girl-friends (Sakh\u012bs)\nPRATHAMA MILNA: First Meetings\nABHIS\u0100RA: (R\u0101dh\u0101's) Going-forth (to visit Krishna)\nVASANTA L\u012aLA: Dalliance in Spring\nM\u0100NA: Wilfulness\nM\u0100N\u0100NTE MILNA: Reunion after Wilfulness\n\u0100KSHEPA ANUYOGA O VIRAHA: Reproaches, Lack and Longing\nPUNARMILNA O RASODG\u0100RA: Reunion and the Flow of Nectar\nNOTES\n ELUCIDATIONS\n BIRDS, FLOWERS AND TREES\n ILLUSTRATIONS\n TEXTS\n CORRIGENDA\nINTRODUCTION.\nVIDY\u0100PATI TH\u0100KUR is one of the most renowned of the Vaishnava poets of\nHindust\u0101n. Before him there had been the great J\u0101yadeva, with his G\u012bt\u0101\nGovinda made in Sanskrit; and it is to this tradition Vidy\u0101pati\nbelongs, rather than to that of R\u0101m\u0101nanda, Kab\u012br, and Tul'si D\u0101s, who\nsang of R\u0101ma and S\u012bt\u0101. Vidy\u0101pati's fame, though he also wrote in\nSanskrit, depends upon the wreath of songs (_pada_) in which he describes\nthe courtship of God and the Soul, under the names of Krishna and R\u0101dh\u0101.\nThese were written in Maithil\u012b, his mother-tongue, a dialect\nintermediate between Beng\u0101l\u012b and Hind\u012b, but nearer to the former. His\nposition as a poet and maker of language is analogous to that of Dante\nin Italy and Chaucer in England. He did not disdain to use the\nfolk-speech and folk-thought for the expression of the highest matters.\nJust as Dante was blamed by the classical scholars of Italy, so\nVidy\u0101pati was blamed by the pandits: he knew better, however, than\nthey, and has well earned the title of Father of Bengali literature.\nLittle is known of Vidy\u0101pati's life[1]. Two other great Vaishnava poets,\nChand\u012b D\u0101s and Um\u0101pati, were his contempories. His patron R\u0101j\u0101\nShivasimha R\u016bpan\u0101r\u0101yana, when heir-apparent, gave the village of Bisap\u012b\nas a rent-free gift to the poet in the year 1400 A.D. (the original deed\nis extant). This shows that in 1400 the poet was already a man of\ndistinction. His patron appears to have died in 1449, before which date\nthe songs here translated must have been written. Further, there still\nexists a manuscript of the Bh\u0101gavata Pur\u0101na in the poet's handwriting,\ndated 1456. It is thus evident that he lived to a good age, for it is\nhardly likely that he was under twenty in the year 1400. The following\nis the legend of his death: Feeling his end approaching, he set out to\ndie on the banks of Gang\u0101. But remembering that she was the child of the\nfaithful, he summoned her to himself: and the great river divided\nherself in three streams, spreading her waters as far as the very place\nwhere Vidy\u0101pati sat. There and then he laid himself, it is said down and\ndied. Where his funeral pyre was, sprang up a Shiva lingam, which exists\nto this day, as well as the marks of the flood. This place is near the\ntown of B\u0101zitpur, in the district of Darbhang\u0101.\nVidy\u0101pati's Vaishnava _padas_ are at once folk and cultivated art--just\nlike the finest of the Pah\u0101r\u012b paintings, where every episode of which he\nsings finds exquisite illustration. The poems are not, like many\nballads, of unknown authorship and perhaps the work of many hands, but\nthey are due to the folk in the sense that folk-life is glorified and\npopular thought is reflected. The songs as we have them are entirely the\nwork of one supreme genius; but this genius did not stand alone, as\nthat of modern poets must--on the contrary, its roots lay deep in the\ncommon life of fields and villages, and above all, in common faiths and\nsuperstitions. These were days when peasants yet spoke as elegantly as\ncourtiers, and kings and cultivators shared one faith and a common view\nof life--conditions where all things are possible to art.\nIt is little wonder that Vidy\u0101pati's influence on the literature of\nEastern Hindust\u0101n has been profound, and that his songs became the\nhousehold poetry of Bengal and Behar. His poems were adopted and\nconstantly sung by the great Hind\u016b lover, C\u0101itanya, in the sixteenth\ncentury, and they have been adapted and handed down in many dialects,\nabove all in Beng\u0101l\u012b, in the Vaishnava tradition, of which the last\nrepresentative is Rabindran\u0101th Tagore. A poem by the latter well resumes\nand explains the theory of the Vaishnava lovers:[2]\n _Not my way of Salvation, to surrender the world!_\n _Rather for me the taste of Infinite Freedom,_\n _While yet I am bound by a thousand bonds to the wheel:_\n _In each glory of sound and sight and smell_\n _I shall find Thy Infinite Joy abiding:_\n _My passion shall burn as the flame of Salvation,_\n _The flower of my love shall become the ripe fruit of Devotion._\nThis leads us to the subject of the true significance of poems such as\nVidy\u0101pati's. It is quite true, as Mr. Nicholson says, that students of\noriental poetry have sometimes to ask themselves, 'Is this a love-poem\ndisguised as a mystical ode, or a mystical ode expressed in the language\nof human love?' Very often this question cannot be answered with a\ndefinite 'Yes' or 'No': not because the poet's meaning is vague, but\nbecause the two ideas are not at all mutually exclusive. All the\nmanifestations of Kama on earth are images of Pursuit or Return.\nAs Vidy\u0101pati himself says (No. LXIII):\n _The same flower that you cast away, the same you use in prayer._\n _And with the same you string the bow._\nIt is quite certain that many poems of Vidy\u0101pati have an almost wholly\nspiritually significance.[3] If some others seem very obviously secular,\nlet us remember that we have no right to detach such poems from their\ncontext in books and still less any right to divorce them from their\ncontext in life.\nWe may illustrate this point by a comparison with poetry of Western\nEurope. Take for example a poem such as the following, with a purely\nsecular significance (if any true art can be said to be secular):\n _Oh! the handsome lad frae Skye_\n _That's lifted a' the cattle, a'oor kye._\n _He's t'aen the dun, the black, the white._\n _And I hae mickle fear_\n _He's t'aen my heart forbye._\nHad this been current in fifteenth century Bengal, every Vaishnava would\nhave understood the song to speak as much of God and the Soul as of man\nand maid, and to many the former meaning would have been the more\nobvious. On the other hand, there are many early medieval Western hymns\nin which the language of human love is deliberately adapted to religious\nuses, for example:\n _When y se blosmes springe,_\n _And here foules songe,_\n _A suete love-longynge_\n _Myn herte thourh out stong;_\n _Al for a love newe,_\n _That is so suete and trewe._\n _That gladieth al mi song._\nHere the 'new love' is Christ.\nFinally, there are other Western lyrics, and very exquisite ones, that\ncould equally be claimed as religious or secular, for example:\n _Long ago to thee I gave_\n _Body, soul and all I have--_\n _Nothing in the world I keep._ [4]\nThe Western critic who would enquire what such a poem meant to its maker\nand his hearers must be qualified by spiritual kinship with him and with\nthem. Let us demand a similar qualification from those who propose to\nspeak of Oriental poetry:\n _Wer den Dichter will verstehen._\n _Muss in Dichter's Lande gehen,--_\nif not in physical presence, at least in spirit.\nIn ecstasy, man is beside himself: that this momentary escape from\n'himself' is the greatest gift life offers, is a promise, as it were a\nforetaste, of Release, warranting us that Nirv\u0101na is something more than\nannihilation. At the same time, be it well understood that such\necstasies are not rewarded to those who are followers of Pleasure, nor\nto those that cling to self-will. In Vaishnava literature this is again\nand again emphasized. It is not till the ear ceases to hear the outside\nworld, that it is open to the music in the heart, the flute of Krishna.\nIf the objection is still made that our poet sings rather of human than\ndivine love,--and we do not deny that he worships physical beauty,\nalbeit the critics have told us that Rab\u012bndranath Tagore is the first\nIndian poet to do so,--we answer with him that Love is One, and we would\nalso quote the very splendid passage of the _Prema S\u0101gara_ where the doubt\nis resolved, \"How could the love of a certain milk-maid have brought her\nsalvation, notwithstanding that her love for Krishna was paramours, and\nshe knew him not as God, but as man?\" The answer is given as follows:\nShri Krishna sat one moonlit night at the edge of a deep forest, playing\nhis flute with intent to lure the milk-maids from their homes. The Braj\ngirls could not rest nor resist the call, and abandoning the illusion of\nfamily and the ties of duty, they hurried in confusion from their homes\nto the forest. But one was seen and detained by her husband; yet she, in\nthe intensity of her absorption in the thought of Hari, abandoned her\nbody and was the first to reach Him. Perceiving the love of her heart.\nHe gave her final release.\nThe king to whom the story has been thus far related, remarks that the\nmilk-maid did not worship Krishna knowing him to be God, but regarded\nhim as an object of sensuous desire, and asks, 'How then was she saved\nby her love?' The answer is given that even they who worship Krishna\nunawares obtain emancipation; just as the water of life makes the\ndrinker immortal, without question whether he knows or does not know its\nvirtue.[5] Should anyone with any purpose worship, he will be\nemancipated. Shri Krishna was reverenced in many ways, and in each was\nsalvation obtained. Thus, \"Nand, Yashod\u0101 and others knew him as a child,\nthe milk-maids as a lover, K\u0101ns worshipped him by fear, the cowherds\ncalled him their friend, the P\u0101ndavas knew him as an ally, Shishup\u0101l\nworshipped him as a foe, the Yaduvams\u012bs thought him one of themselves,\nthe Yog\u012bs, Yat\u012bs and Munis meditated upon Him as God; but at last\neveryone of these obtained deliverance. What wonder then if one\nmilk-maid by devotion to Him, was able to cross the sea of life,--to\nreach the further shore?\"[6]\nThis pure humanism is the Vaishnava equivalent for: \"Inasmuch as ye have\ndone it unto these, ye have done it unto Me,\" and \"The worship of God is\n. . . loving the greatest men best.\"\nWe may also give here the Indian answer to the objection sometimes\nraised respecting the morality of Krishna Himself,--much as the\nPharisees questioned the right of Christ to pluck the ears of corn. The\nBh\u0101gavata Pur\u0101na in one place answers as Blake or Nietzsche might, that\n_dharma_ is not the same for the great and the small. More than this, it\nis a fault in logic to subject to ethical criticism a Power Who is by\nhypothesis Infinite, beyond the Pairs of opposites. As Purnendu Narayan\nSinha expresses it: \"Nothing that we know, nothing that we are composed\nof, nothing that shapes our experiences, that causes our likes and\ndislikes, limits Krishna. He is the absolute, for the relatives we know\nof, or which we may even think of, have no place in Him.\"[7] And indeed,\nthis ought to be obvious to anyone that understands the language of\nmythology; for the multiplication of Krishna's form in the circular\ndance, and at Dv\u0101rak\u0101, and the fact already alluded to, of His\naccessibility in every form, are clear indications of His Infinity. It\nis nowhere suggested that the illusion of family and the ties of duty\nmay be abandoned except in self-surrender to Him.\nIt must also be remembered that the Krishna L\u012bl\u0101 is not a historical\nrecord (as N\u012blakantha remarks, 'The narration is not the real point');\nHis L\u012bl\u0101 in Brind\u0101ban is eternal, and Brind\u0101ban is the heart of man. We\nare thus concerned with ideas and symbols, and not with history. The\nmost that an objector could then adduce, would be to suggest that the\nsymbolism may be unwisely chosen, and may be misunderstood. I should\ntreat this objection with respect, and would agree that it may be valid\nfrom the standpoint of the objector. But I do not think it is valid from\nthe standpoint of the lover. I would not even say, Let those who are\nable to take this passionate literature only in a carnal sense (and we\nhave admitted that much of it has a carnal as well as a spiritual\nsense), therefore ignore it; for if the worship of loveliness is not\nLove, it is none the less a step on the way to Love.\nAgain, however, it is not meant to imply that the pastoral and romantic\nconditions indicated in Vaishnava literature do not exist, and have\nnever existed, anywhere in India. On the contrary, if India is the\nclassic country of lyrical poetry, this is because she is also the\nclassic country of love.[8] Love is certainly of more significance to\nthe Indian consciousness than to the European, and the Western fear of\nvoluptuousness is hardly known in the East. But just as beauty was never\nin India glorified as an end in itself, so romantic love never obtained\nthere such hold and possession over life and art as it has in the West.\nTo put the same conclusion in other words, the Indian culture is\nnowhere corrupted by sentimentality. The reason of this is to be found,\nI think, in a wide-spread and deep-rooted consciousness of the principle\nof Impermanence. It is just this consciousness of evanescence which\ngives to the voluptuous and passionate art of Ajant\u0101 the spiritual\nsignificance that is all the more impressive because of its sensuous\nsetting. Non-attachment is a greater quality than non-participation.\nWhere life is transparent, the enjoyment of life is never a spiritual\nbondage. One might almost believe that to the Ajant\u0101 painters and the\nVaishnava poets had been granted the prayer of Socrates,--\"O beloved\nPan, and all ye other gods of this place, grant me to become beautiful\nin the inner man, and that whatever outward things I have may be at\npeace with those within.\"\nA few words are needed to explain the method of translation. The\nrendering is line for line, and often word for word, but whenever a\nchoice lay between expressing the letter and the spirit of the original,\nthe latter has been considered of the first importance. Vidy\u0101pati\nreflects a certain view of life: it is this, rather than the form of his\nutterance, however perfect, that touches us most nearly. A single word\nin the original is often rendered by two or three in the translation,\nfor the terseness of the Beng\u0101l\u012b could rarely be repeated.\nNotwithstanding that our translation does not pretend to be metrical,\nmuch care has been taken with the phrasing, to make it readable: for it\nwould appear that alike in music and poetry, _rasa_ is more closely\nbound up with phrasing than with a regular division into bars or\nfeet.[9] At the same time, a few examples of the original text are\nquoted in the 'Notes,' in order to give the reader some idea of their\nform.\nIt should be noticed that the songs here translated are but a part of\nVidy\u0101pati's _Bang\u012bya Pad\u0101bali_. Two hundred and two songs are given in\nthe edition of K\u0101liprasanna K\u0101vy\u0101bhisharad which we have chiefly used;\nand there are over nine hundred in that of Shr\u012b Nagendranath Gupta\npublished in N\u0101gar\u012b character for H. H. the Mah\u0101r\u0101jah of Darbhang\u0101,--to\nwhom I am indebted for a copy of the edition. The order of our versions\nfollows that of K\u0101liprasanna K\u0101vy\u0101bhisharad; the songs omitted are those\nwhich are almost repetitions of those translated, or of which we could\nnot make a satisfactory rendering.\nIt has been very difficult to find such words as can express Vidy\u0101pati's\ntransparency. English since the Elizabethan age has grown poor in purely\nlyrical words and idioms, for modern literature, like modern plastic art\nor music, rarely deals with unmixed feelings. To present Vidy\u0101pati in\nEnglish in a form at all comparable with the original, would require all\nthe facility and elegance of the Elizabethans joined to nearly all the\nseriousness of the earliest English lyrics. I say nearly all, for\nVidy\u0101pati is a very conscious artist, with a considerable sense of\nhumour; and though he is certainly far more serious than the elegant\nElizabethans, he is not in any sense a primitive.\nThe rendering of certain words in the original demands a brief\nexplanation. _Sakh\u012b_ (the _chet\u012b_ of Mr. Bain's beautiful Sanskrit\nimitations), meaning a girl-friend and confidante of the heroine,\nusually used in the vocative, is translated as 'my dear.' _D\u016bt\u012bka_, the\nmessenger or go-between, is a _sakh\u012b_ or any woman who carries messages\nbetween the lovers: but often, too, the poet himself is the messenger,\nand in this case there is perhaps a conscious reference to the artist as\ngo-between God and the soul. The _gop\u012bs_ are the milk-maids of Gokula,\nof whom R\u0101dh\u0101 is Krishna's beloved.\n_A\u00f1cala_, meaning the upper part of the _s\u0101r\u012b_, thrown across the\nbreast and over the shoulder, also forming a head-veil, we have\ntranslated, not quite accurately, as 'wimple,' for want of a better\nword. _Nibibanda_, which means the knotting of the _s\u0101r\u012b_ round the\nwaist, is rendered as 'zone' or 'girdle,' though it is not properly a\nseparate garment.\nThe word _rasa_ can never be adequately translated into English, and\nperhaps it should be adopted there as a loan-word, together with such\nothers as _karma_, _yoga_, _dharma_, _sams\u0101ra_, _nirv\u0101na_. _Rasa_,\nlike the word 'essence,' has both a concrete and an abstract\nsignificance; it has, amongst others, such meanings as juice, nectar,\nessence, taste, flavour, savour, lust, and in an abstract sense, taste,\nappreciation, passion, ecstasy, love and so forth. _Rasa_ is equally\nthe essential element in love and in art. It would be defined from the\nIndian standpoint as an emotion provoked by the recognition of reality.\nFrom _rasa_ are derived the two important words _rasika_ (a\nconnoisseur, lover), and _rasavanta_ or _rasamanta_ ('possessing\n_rasa_' said either of an individual or of a work of art).\nIt is a canon of Indian dramatic criticism, not only that _rasa_ is\nunique, but that those only can experience rasa who are temperamentally\nqualified to do so by virtue acquired in a former life,--_Poeta nascitur\nnonjit_. All these associations give great weight to Vidyapati's\nsplendid aphorism:\n _Rasa bujha, i rasamanta_\n'None knoweth love but the lover, none ecstasy save the ecstatic.'\nIf we apply this to life and art, it means what Blake meant when he said\nthat enthusiasm is the first and last principle of criticism.\nIt should not be forgotten that Vidy\u0101pati's songs, like those of all the\nVaishnava poets--from Jayadeva to Rabindranath Tagore--were meant to be\nsung; and as the latter says himself, \"In a book of songs the main thing\nis left out: to set forth the music's vehicle, and leave out the music\nitself, is just like keeping the mouse and leaving out Ganapati himself\"\n('_Jiban-smrti_,' p. 148). The padas of Vidy\u0101pati may still be heard on\nthe lips of Bengali singers, albeit often in corrupt forms. It may also\nbe noted that song was constantly illustrated by the conventional\nlanguage of descriptive gesture. We are able to partly compensate the\nlack of this in reproducing the eleven illustrations from Indian\nsources; for although not designed directly to illustrate Vidy\u0101pati's\ntext, there is to be found in these an immediate expression of the same\nideas. A further account of all the illustrations is appended to the\n'Notes.'\nFinally, in the matter of transliteration: since these versions are\nintended rather for the _rasika_ than for the _pandit_, we have done\nno more that mark the long and short vowels of Indian names and words\noccurring in this Introduction or in the text. The reader will not go\nfar wrong if he pronounces such words as if in Italian. C has the the\nsound of ch in _church:_ for \u015b and \u1e63 we have used sh throughout.\nIt is by an inexcusable oversight that the poet's name has been printed\nas Vidhy\u0101pati throughout the text. (Transcriber's note: This has been\ncorrected).\nBritford, _December_, 1914.\n[1] _What is here given is mainly derived from: G. A. Grierson, 'The\nVernacular Literature of Hindustan,' and Dinesh Chandra Sen, 'History of\nBengali Literature.'_\n[2] _The Tarjuman al-Ashw\u0101q_, 1911 _p_. 7.\n[3] _I do not here refer to the details of concrete symbolism (for which\nsee Purnendu Narayan Sinha, 'The Bh\u0101gavata Pur\u0101na, a Study,' Benares,\n1901), but to the common language of mysticism._\n[4] _Translated by Henry Newbolt from the French of Wenceslas._\n[5] _Thus the Hind\u016bs hold that it is better to be the foe of God, or to\nuse His name in vain, than to live without knowledge of Him and without\nspeaking His name._\n[6] _Prema S\u0101gara, Ch. xxx._\n[8] _We have already mentioned the 'G\u012bt\u0101 Govinda.' It needs scarcely to\nbe said that Indian lyrical poetry is of still older ancestry. The\nreader of Kalid\u0101sa's 'Shakuntal\u0101' for example, will find there\ninnumerable parallels both to Vidy\u0101pati's combined tenderness and\nwisdom, and his quaint conceits. These parallels are so many that we\nhave made no attempt to mention them in the 'Notes' The same spirit,\ntoo, is already recognizable in the lyrical passages of the 'R\u0101m\u0101yana.'\nAll this is no more than to say that Vidy\u0101pati is essentially and\ntypically Indian._\n[9] _According to Hindu theory, K\u0101vya (poetry) includes both prose\n(gadya-k\u0101vya) and verse (padya-k\u0101vya)._\nKRISHNA P\u016aRBBAR\u0100GA\nI.\n_Krishna:_ Some damsel I saw, supremely fair--\n A moon unstained, that slowly rose,\n Eyes twin lotus-blooms, dyed with s\u016brm,\n The playground of waves of love--\n Twin timid partridges, snared by Nature\n With nought but a rope of collyrium!\n A garland of ivory-pearls caressed the burden\n Of her mountain breasts--\n K\u0101ma pouring celestial streams from a brimming conch\n On a golden Shambhu!\n The sacrificer of a hundred offerings on a sacred shore\n Were blest by such reward!\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: It is Gokula's lord._\n _The herd-girls' darling._\nII.\n_Krishna:_ Your hair dismays the yak, the mountain sinks into the vale,\n Fearing your face, the moon is fading in the sky,\n The antelope is fearful of your eyes, your voice dismays\n Your gait alarms the olifant, he hides him in the wood:\n Why came you not for speech with me, fair may?\n All these have fled afar in fear of you,\n How then should you in turn fear me?\n Dismayed by your breasts, the unblown lily lingers under lake.\n The glob\u00e9d jar leaps into fire.\n The honey-apple and the pomegranate abide aloft.\n And Shambhu drinks his poison.\n Dismay\u00e9d by your arms, the golden lily-root leaves not the mud.\n Affrighted by your fingers, the flower-stems are shivering!\n _Vidy\u0101pati asks: How many shall I cite_\n _Of spells of Love like these?_\nIII.\n_Krishna:_ Which of the gods this fair face fashioned?\n Beauty-surpassing, heart's-bliss-granting,\n Garland-victress of the Triple Worlds.\n The sun-bright eyes of her fair face\n Are tricked with s\u016brm--\n Restless wagtails on a golden lotus,\n At play with pitch-black snakes.\n The vine of down from her navel's well\n Is a serpent thirsting for air:\n Thinking in terror her nose is Garu\u1e0da's beak\n It hides in the valley of her bosoms' hills.\n Love with three arrows conquered Three World's,\n Still two of the arrows remained:\n Very cruel is Nature to slay the love-lorn,\n Surrendering those to her two eyes!\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: Hearken, fair maids_\n _Who haunt the well of Love:_\n _R\u0101j\u0101 Shivasimha R\u016bpan\u0101r\u0101yana_\n _And Lakshm\u012b Dev\u012b be witness._\nIV.\n_Krishna:_ Why did that moon-face cross my path?\n Just for one moment her eyes met mine,\n Whose sidelong glance is all too keen:\n An ill day that for me!\n My thoughts were set upon her breasts,\n Love lay waking in my heart.\n Her voice was ringing in my ears:\n I would have gone, my feet refused to move.\n _The bonds of hope constrain me yet:_\n _Love is a tide, says Vidy\u0101pati._\nV.\n_Krishna:_ Fair-face, red brow-spot, there-behind the heavy\n As if the sun and moon together rising left the night behind.\n Ah damsel fair! with what and what devoted care,\n Has Nature given to you the utmost beauty of the moon.\n A grass green bodice binds your breasts, a glimpse is\n So jealously you cover them,--but never snow may hide\n Dark s\u016brm decks your curving restless eyes.\n As if the bees would rest their weight upon some\n _Hearken, young thing, says Vidy\u0101pati; these charms,\n _Witness be R\u0101j\u0101 Shivasimha R\u016bpan\u0101r\u0101yana\nVI.\n_Krishna:_ She left the shrine at cowdust-time, passing gliding\n Like a flash of lightning mated with a fresh cloud.\n Tender of age she was, a garland deftly woven:\n A glimpse could not content my hope, but Love's fire\n Bright was her body, shining under wimple with the\n Long locks, small middle, sidelong-glancing eyes.\n And softly smiling, pierced me with the arrows\n _Lord of the Five Gaurs, live for ever, says Vidy\u0101pati!_\nVII.\n_Krishna:_ Laughing, talking, milk-white girl.\n Nectar-showering as autumn moon at full:\n Jewel of beauty surpassing, passing before me,\n Gainly of gait as olifant-king.\n Small was her middle as any lion's, her frail frame breaking\n With the burden of the honey-apples of her breasts.\n Her lovely eyes shone white beside the s\u016brm that dyed them.\n Bees, as it were, mistaking them for spotless water-lilies.\n _Says Vidyapati: The Lord of lovers_\n _Sorely tholes the sight of Radha's loveliness._\nVIII.\n_Krishna:_ I could not see her clearly:\n Like a vine of lightning flashing from a wreath\n She plunged an arrow in my heart.\n Half the wimple had slipped, half was her face in smiles.\n Half a wave in her eyes:\n Half of her bosom I saw, half of the wimple filling,--\n Love consumes me ever since.\n Bright was her body withal, and golden cups her breasts.\n Her bodice, Love transformed:\n My wits were routed,-- meseems this snare\n Was set by K\u0101madev.\n Pearl-teeth arow her lips did meet.\n That murmured gentle words.\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: Grief haunts my heart:_\n _I saw her indeed, but hope was not sated._\nIX.\n_Krishna:_ Beholding that my love was at her bath,\n She pierced my heart with arrows five,--\n The stream of water pouring from her tresses.\n Was her moon-face weeping, frighted by their gloom.\n The wet cloth clung upon her corse,--\n So might K\u0101ma shake a hermit's heart!\n Twin breasts were cakrav\u0101kas sweet.\n United by the gods upon the self-same shore,--\n Caged in the prison of her arms.\n Lest they should fly away in fear.\n _Vidy\u0101pati, the poet, sings:_\n _The precious maid her lover meets!_\nX.\n_Krishna:_ A joyous day this day for me!\n I saw my love when she was bathing,\n A stream of water pouring from her hair,--\n The clouds were showering strings of pearls!\n Wiping her face intentifly,\n As though she cleansed a golden mirror,--\n Discovering both her breasts.\n Where had been set inverted golden cups,\n She let her zone fall free:\n _That was the bound of my desire, says Vidy\u0101pati._\nXI.\n_Krishna:_ R\u0101i of the lily face had not yet climbed the bank,\n When she beheld brave K\u0101n before her:\n 'A maid demure, with hanging head, in company of elders.\n How was I to see her face?'\n But matchless was the bright may's art:\n Stepping before them all, she called aloud,\n With half-averted face,\n And broke withal her string of pearls.\n Crying aloud: 'My garland's broken!'\n Every person, one and all, was gathering up the beads,--\n Then she gazed on Shy\u0101ma!\n Her partridge-eyes beholding Krishna's moon-fair face.\n Were drinking draughts of dew:\n _Each on the other gazing, spread abroad the taste\n _That Vidy\u0101pati knoweth well._\nXII.\n_Krishna:_ She smiled a little when she saw me lurking there--\n As if the rising moon lit up the night:\n And when she rained on me her sidelong glances,\n The heavens became a swarm of bees.\n Who knoweth whose the maid may be,\n Setting my heart a-shake, and vanishing?\n The humble-bee is prisoned in the lotus-flower of love,--\n I was amazed to see the timid fair one passing by.\n Then was made manifest the beauty of her breasts,--\n (Whose heart does not the golden lily snare?)\n Half was she hidden, half revealed.\n Her glob\u00e9d breasts told me of her desire.\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: That was love's dawn:_\n _Whom does Madans secret arrow spare?_\nXIII.\n_D\u016btik\u0101:_ The flower is open all amidst the thorns;\n The frenzied bee can find no place of rest,\n But haunts continually the nectar-laden jasmine,\n Reckless of life in eager thirst.\n He honey-life, you honey-heap.\n Already hiding hoarded sweets,--\n The maddened bee has neither home\n Nor rest without your jasmine-self.\n Deep in your heart consider this:\n Why should you be the murderer of a bee?\n _For Vidy\u0101pati avows: He will return to life._\n _If He may drink the nectar of your lips._\nXIV.\n_Krishna:_ Wheresoever her twin feet fall,\n A lotus-flower uplifts them:\n Wheresoever her body passes swaying,\n There is the lightning's undulation!\n Surpassing radiance that I beheld,\n Has made her seat amidst my heart:\n Wheresoever her eyes are opened,\n There are water-lilies seen!\n Wheresoever her light laugh rings,\n There very nectar sours in envy:\n Wheresoever fall her sidelong glances,\n Fly the myriads of Madan's arrows!\n Even an instant to behold such loveliness\n Suffices to eclipse the Triple Worlds:\n But and I see her once again,\n My mourning may depart!\n _Says Vidy\u0101pati: In sooth,_\n _For your dear sake, I'll bring her._\nR\u0100DH\u0100 BAYASANDHI\nXV.\n_D\u016btik\u0101:_ Childhood and youth are mingled both,\n Her eyes have taken the road to her ears:\n Wily are her words, and her low laugh\n As if the moon appeared on earth.\n She takes a mirror to array herself,\n And asks: 'What is the game of love, my dear?'\n How many times she secretly regards her bosom,\n Smiling to see her breasts!\n First like a jujube, then like an orange,--\n Love day by day enfolds her limbs:\n O M\u0101dhava, I saw a girl surpassing fair.\n Childhood and youth were one in her!\n _Saith Vidy\u0101pati: Oh foolish maid,_\n _The wise would say, The twain have met._\nXVI.\n_D\u016btik\u0101:_ Day by day her breasts grew great.\n Her hips increased, her middle waned:\n Madan now enlarged her eyes.\n All of her childhood fled in fear.\n Breasts that are jujubes first, and then like oranges,\n Daily the sting of Love increasing them:\n Thereafter waxing greater than the pummalo,\n Now they are twin ripe honey-apple fruits.\n Ah M\u0101dhava! I saw the fair one freely,\n I suddenly beheld her as she bathed;\n The filmy muslin clung upon her breast,--\n Happy he who sees her thus!\n Her jet-black hair poured down her breast\n As though a shaggy yak concealed a gold Mahesh:\n _Hearken Mur\u0101ri, Vidy\u0101pati saith:_\n _So fair a may may dally with a man of worth._\nXVII.\n_Krishna:_ Now and again her eyes to their corners fly,\n Now and again her filmy robe receives them;\n Now and again her serried teeth laugh out,\n Now and again the smile delays upon her lips.\n Sometimes she hurries nervously, sometimes she walks\n Now for the first time learning Madan's lessons:\n She steals a glance at her breasts' buds,--\n Sometimes she draws the wimple close, sometimes she\n stands astonished.\n Childhood and youth are met in her.\n None knoweth which is first or last:\n _Hearken, O K\u0101na, says Vidy\u0101pati,_\n _The marks of youth and childhood are indivisible._\nXVIII.\n_Krishna:_ Childhood and youth are face to face,--\n She stands uncertain, in the hold of rival factions:\n Sometimes she binds her hair, sometimes she lets it fall,\n Sometimes she hides her body, sometimes she leaves it bare.\n Her tranquil eyes are somewhat troubled,\n There where the breasts arise are purple stains,\n Her restless feet reflect her heart's unrest:\n Madan awakes, whose eyes were shut.\n _Hearken, Mur\u0101ri, saith Vidy\u0101pati:_\n _Sustain with patience till I bring her._\nXIX.\n_D\u016btik\u0101:_ The little buds are peeping shyly,\n Her eyes have stolen the dancing of her feet,\n Her hand remains continually upon her robe,\n She is ashamed to question her companions.\n Oh M\u0101dhav! How shall I recite her growing-up?\n E'en Madan's heart, beholding her, must be ensnared!\n Love is forsooth the ruler of her heart:\n Setting the jars upon her breast, he straightens out her form.\n She bends her mind to learn the lore of love,\n Just as the deer to hear the song:\n Strife springs up twixt youth and childhood.\n Neither admits defeat or victory.\n _Lo, Vidy\u0101pati's enquiry,--_\n _Shall she not leave her childhood finally?_\nXX.\n_D\u016btik\u0101:_ Now youth advanced, childhood withdrew,\n Her eyes have caught the dancing of her feet.\n Twin eyes performed the task of messengers,\n Her laughter hid, and shame was born.\n Continually she sets her hand upon her robe.\n Speaks every word with hanging head:\n Her hips have gained their full-grown glory--\n She leans on her companions when she walks.\n Hearken, O Kana: I have drawn my own conclusions,\n Hearken now, and make your own decision:\n _The savour of this matter is well-known to Vidy\u0101pati,--_\n _Record I take of R\u0101ja Shrvasimha and Lakshm\u012b Dev\u012b._\nR\u0100DH\u0100 P\u016aRBBAR\u0100GA\nXXI.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101_: How shall I tell of K\u0101nu's beauty, my dear?\n Who shall describe that dream-shape?\n His lovely form is a fresh cloud,\n His yellow garment the lightning's flash.\n So black, so black his waving hair!\n The peacock-plume so near the moon's orb!\n For fragrance of the screw-pine and the jasmine,\n Madan casts away his flower-arrows in dismay.\n _Vidy\u0101pati asks: What more shall I say?_\n _Nature has emptied Madan's treasury!_\nXXII.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ I had desired to look on K\u0101nu,\n But when I saw him I was filled with fear:\n Ever since then I am both fond and foolish,\n I have no knowledge at all what I say or do.\n My twin eyes wept like dripping rain,\n Unceasingly my heart went pit-a-pat:\n I cannot think what made me look on him, my dear,\n Just for that whim, I lent my life into another's hand!\n I cannot tell what that dear thief has done to me,--\n When I beheld him, he did steal my heart, and went away,\n And as he went he showed so many signs of love,\n The more I would forget, the less I may!\n _Hearken, fair maid, says Vidy\u0101pati:_\n _Have patience in your heart, for you shall meet Mur\u0101ri._\nXXIII.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ A peerless beauty I beheld, my dear,\n If you but listen, you may know it was the vision of a dream\n Twin lotus-feet that wore a string of moons,\n From them two tender tam\u0101l-shafts arising,--\n Around them twined a vine of lightning,\n (He slowly passed along K\u0101lind\u012b's bank):\n Upon his leaf-like hands another string of moons--\n The lustre of the sun on new-blown flowers.\n Twin flawless bimba-fruits were ripe.\n Above them sat a tranquil parrot:\n Over him twin restless wagtails.\n Over them a serpent coiled about his head.\n My playful maid, explain:\n Why did he steal my wits when I beheld him thus?\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: It is a sign of love;_\n _Well have you weighed the worthy wight._\nXXIV.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ How can I tell the limits of my grief, my dear?\n The blowing of that flute diffuses poison through my frame:\n Insistently I hear it sounding,\n And then my heart and body melt in shame.\n In that supreme instant, my body fills to overflowing,\n I dare not lift my eyes lest anyone should know of it:\n In the company of elders, waves of emotion sweeping through me,\n I draw my dress across each limb to hide it carefully.\n With softest steps I walk about the house--\n Kind fate has so far hidden my secret shame--\n But rapture fills my heart and body, my girdle slips!\n _Vidy\u0101pati is dazed! What can he say?_\nSAKH\u012a-SHIKSH\u0100-BACAN\u0100DI\nXXV.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ Happy is your birth, and blest your beauty!\n For all are crying upon K\u0101nu, K\u0101nu,\n And he is laden deep with love of you.\n The longing cloud desires the c\u0101tak,\n The moon desires the partridge,\n The vine upholds the full-grown tree,--\n There is amazement in my heart!\n When there you stood with hanging hair,\n Across your breast but half its veil,\n Then K\u0101nu, seeing all, was sorely troubled,--\n Tell me, dear damsel, what is your intent?\n When you laughed and showed your teeth,\n With hand on hand held over head,\n And your unconscious glances pierced his heart,--\n Then seeing him, you took a maiden on your lap!\n Such is my tale of you, O beauty,\n Advise you thereupon:\n _You are the idol of his heart, and he a frame forlorn,_\n _Says Vidy\u0101pati the poet._\nXXVI.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ Hearken, hearken, O virtuous R\u0101dh\u0101:\n Murdering M\u0101dhava, what is the good you will gain?\n By day the moon is pale and lonely,\n Likewise _he_ waxes thinner and thinner:\n His rings and bracelets slip,--\n I think he must remake them many times.\n _I cannot understand your ways;_\n _The poet rests his head upon his hands!_\nXXVII.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ Make your decision, Beauty:\n K\u0101na is waxen wood for want of you,\n Sometimes he laughs for little cause:\n What would he say with passionate words?\n Very sorry are his sighs,\n He cries, _O Wel-a-way:_\n His helpless body trembles,\n None can hold him still.\n _Saith Vidy\u0101pati: Dear maiden,_\n _Witness R\u016bpan\u0101r\u0101yana._\nXXVIII.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ Hearken fair damsel, to good advice,\n For I shall teach you special wisdom:\n First you shall sit beside the bed,\n With bended neck, but half regarding him.\n And when your lover touches you, push out your hand,\n Remaining silent, uttering never a word:\n And when he takes you forcibly and clasps you to his side,\n Passionately you shall exclaim. Nay, nay!\n In his embrace, your body you shall wrench aside,\n Breaking away in the moment of delight.\n _Saith Vidy\u0101pati: What can I say?_\n _Yourself the Guru shall teach e'en Love himself._\nXXIX.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ Now hear me, daughter of a king,\n For I have come to speak with you:\n You have destroyed the life of precious K\u0101na,--\n What work is this that you have wrought?\n When day declined, I think,\n You walked beside the water's edge,\n And when you saw him, did embrace\n Some maiden's neck, demurely smiling:\n And showing him your moon-face,\n You put him in a sorry plight.\n Then suddenly you came away, before he saw you well\n Now he is weeping, _Wel-a-way_.\n Giving him just a glimpse of your breast,\n You stole his heart:\n _Vidy\u0101pati enquires: Beauty,_\n _How shall K\u0101nu live?_\nXXX.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ Attend my teaching, artless maid,\n And I shall give you good advice:\n First you shall deck your hair with jewels,\n And paint your curving eyes with s\u016brm.\n Then you shall go to him with all your body folded close,\n And seeming to be dumb, shall stay apart:\n My dear, at first you shall not go anigh him,\n But with wanton glances, fair one, shall awaken Love.\n Hiding your breasts, your shoulders showing,\n Your girdle knotted fast,\n You shall appear offended, yet be loving,\n You shall refrain desire, that ever springs afresh.\n _Says Vidy\u0101pati: This is the first degree:_\n _They that be worthy shall taste the fruit._\nXXXI.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ I know not the taste of love, nor the colour of desire;\n How may I have ado, my dear, with yonder swain,\n That I should love him as you ask?\n A young thing I, afraid of shame.\n What can I tell you, dearest maiden?\n I may not dare to have ado with him,\n He is a herdsman lover, new-enflamed,\n With all five arrows Love awakens his desire.\n No sooner seeing me, but he will clip me tight:\n Who then will save me, when my life is dying?\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: Your fears are vain,_\n _Believe me, that his love is not of such a sort._\nXXXII.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ Leave me, dear maid, I pray you,--\n I will not go whereas he is:\n Nought do I know the skill of words,\n Or art of signs, nor how to pretend offense.\n All of my friends arraying me at once,--\n I cannot even bind my own hair!\n I never have heard what dalliance means,\n How may I mix with M\u0101dhava?\n He is learned in love, a passionate swain,\n And I a weak girl of scanty wisdom.\n _Says Vidy\u0101pati: What counsel do I give?_\n _'Tis that there should be union._\nPRATHAMA MILNA\nXXXIII.\n_D\u016btika:_ Hearken, hearken, beautiful K\u0101n\u0101i:\n I give the maiden R\u0101dh\u0101 to your care,\n A lotus-damsel, softly-wrought,\n And thirstier bee than you.\n The feast of honey is prepared,--\n Only forget the Archer's cruelty,\n Touching her bosom gently\n As an olifant a lily.\n Making excuse to count her necklace pearls,\n Your hands may lift the burden of her breasts:\n She does not understand the ways of love,\n But now consents, and now refuses.\n The shir\u012bsh-flower is not more delicate than she, therefore\n Inure her to the Archer's way by little steps,--\n _The poet Vidy\u0101pati lays down_\n _This prayer of a messenger upon your feet._\nXXXIV.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ When first the damsel to her leman came,\n Her heart beat fast with shame and fear:\n Like to a golden image, R\u0101dh\u0101 stood quite still,\n Nor moving forward, nor returning.\n Taking her hands, he sets her by his side,\n And she in shame and anger veils her face:\n When he unfolds her face and kisses her upon her mouth,\n She hides the shamefast face in M\u0101dhav's breast.\n _This is the merry song of Vidy\u0101pati the poet,_\n _Delighting R\u0101j\u0101 Shivasimha's heart._\nXXXV.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ The sakh\u012b soothed her fears, and led her lovingly,--\n Her leman's heart was gladdened, he took her by the hand:\n But R\u0101dh\u0101 paled at K\u0101nu's touch,\n A lotus fading in the moon's embrace.\n She cries: _Oh no, no, no!_ and tears are pouring\n She lies outstretched upon the margin of the bed,\n His close embrace has not unloosed her zone,--\n Even of handling of her breasts has been but little.\n She lifts the wimple up to hide her face,\n She cannot rest, but trembles through and through.\n _Says Vidy\u0101pati: The heart of it is patience:_\n _Step by step may Madan claim his own._\nXXXVI.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ Ah damsel fair! in dalliance is no delight,\n For Madan wounds the heart with double pains.\n The maidens all together setting her by K\u0101nu's side,\n The damsel breathes in frightened gasps:\n When K\u0101nu lifts her to his lap, she bends her body back,\n Like the young snake, untamed by spells.\n 'But shut your eyes this once, my fair one,\n As a sick man drinks his draught:\n A little moment's pain, and then the birth of bliss,--\n Why do you turn your face away from this, my girl?'\n _Hearken, Mur\u0101ri, saith Vidy\u0101pati:_\n _You are the ocean of desire, and she is artless._\nXXXVII.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ How can I tell of what was done that night?\n Unhappily the hours were spent with M\u0101dhava:\n He clasped my breasts and drank the nectar of my lips,\n Laying his face on mine, he killed my life.\n (First youth, and hence this pouring out of passion:\n So rash is K\u0101n,--he has no skill in love).\n Madan-maddened, nothing recking,\n He would not heed how many prayers!\n _Hearken, Lady fair, says Vidy\u0101pati:_\n _You are but artless, and Mur\u0101ri is athirst._\nXXXVIII.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ What can I say, my sakh\u012b? It is shame to tell\n All that my Lover did imperiously;\n A young thing I, unlearned in lore of love,--\n It was the messenger that led me to his side.\n My body shivered at the sight of him,\n So fierce he was to fall on me,\n I lost my wits in his embrace:\n How can I tell what amorous play he played?\n In everything my Lord behaved ungently,\n How can I speak of it amongst my friends?\n Why ask of it, who know it all too well?\n Happy is she whom he may not distress!\n _Fear not, says Vidy\u0101pati:_\n _Such is the fashion of first dalliance._\nXXXIX.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ Do not urge me, dearest maiden, do not urge.\n What can I do, if he should soothe my fears?\n Few are my years, for I am not so old as K\u0101nu,--\n I am too shamefast and too tender.\n Cruel Hari played with me impatiently,\n How can I tell how many woes the night bestowed?\n Passion flamed up, I lost my wits,--\n Who knows when he broke my girdle?\n He held me close, with pinioned arms,\n And then my heart was beating wildly;\n I let him see my streaming eyes,\n But even then K\u0101nu had no pity.\n My wicked lover parched my lips--\n Abetted by the night, Rahu devoured the moon;\n He tore my twin breasts with his nails,\n Just as a lion tears an elephant.\n _Ah amorous woman, says Vidy\u0101pati,--_\n _You knew full well Mur\u0101ri was aflame!_\nXL.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ Shy\u0101ma sitting in his pride\n Speaks of the night's delights:\n 'She is the beauteous sweet-faced R\u0101i,\n With rapture I received her in my inmost heart.\n 'How many ways she kissed me,\n Laughing light and low in gladness,\n Diversely disporting,\n My dream of delight.\n 'How nectar-sweet her words,\n Eyebrows arching, wanton glances,\n Damsel waking in my heart's core.'\n _This is first love, says Vidy\u0101pati._\nXLI.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ O maiden, dearest maiden, do not lead me to him,\n Too young am I, and he is a burning lover:\n My heart is shaken, going to his side,--\n The amorous bee will spring upon the lotus.\n The muslin hides my harmless body\n Like wimpling waters of a lily-lake:\n Oh Mother mine, how creatures suffer pain!\n What Power shaped the wicked Night?\n _Says Vidy\u0101pati: What is befitting now?_\n _Who cannot tell when it is dawn?_\nXLII.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ Her gentle words she can but stammer,\n Her shamefast speech will not well out:\n To-day I found her most contrary,\n Sometimes consenting, sometimes fearful.\n At any word of dalliance, she tightly shuts her eyes,\n For she has caught a glimpse of the great sea of Love:\n At kissing-time she turns her face away,--\n The moon has taken the lotus on his lap!\n Stricken with terror if her zone be touched, the shining maiden\n Knows that Madan's treasury is being rifled.\n Her clothes are disarrayed, she hides her bosom\n The jewels are exposed, and yet she knots her garment!\n _What is Vidy\u0101pati to think, forsooth?_\n _For at the moment of embrace, she flies the bed!_\nXLIII.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ Oh Hari, Why do you seek to loose my girdle?\n You shall not win your will:\n I cannot tell what pleasure there can be in seeing me,\n But now I know your guile, O Banam\u0101li!\n If you will listen to my plea, Mur\u0101ri,\n I shall abuse you only very gently:\n Sufficed with dalliance, what need for sight?\n My soul may not endure it.\n Never has like been heard,\n While lamps are lit, to play with me:\n The people of the house will hear our very breath!\n Deal with me gently, for the people of the house are\n _This savour Vidy\u0101pati knoweth well,--_\n _R\u0101j\u0101 Shivasimha and Lakshm\u012b Dev\u012b be witness!_\nXLIV.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ You that are skilled in passion's lore have pity\n I will forsake it when my youth increases:\n My little savour cannot satisfy you now,\n The little draught will not suffice to slake your thirst.\n Would you but take it drop by drop,\n Daily increasing like the digit of the moon!\n These little breasts of mine will hardly fill your hands\n O Hari, do not wound them with your nails, be wise in love.\n _Vidy\u0101pati exclaims: What are these gestes,_\n _To set such store upon a green pomegranate?_\nXLV.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ You are that Banam\u0101li that did slay Ch\u0101nur:\n This tender woman is the shir\u012bsh-flower.\n O cruel messenger that made this war,\n And gave a jasmine-garland to an olifant!\n No longer does the s\u016brm paint my eyes,\n And wet with sweat are musk and sandal:\n O wounded M\u0101dhav, I beseech you,\n Do not offer up my life upon the altar of Desire!\n O Hari, Hari, let your purpose be\n To spare my life until another day.\n _Give Love his due, impatient lover!_\n _Says Vidy\u0101pati: Your wish shall be accomplished._\nXLVI.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ Amorous the swain, and little is his darling:\n If hands be laid on her, how many are her wiles!\n With what entreaties and persuasions have the maidens led her\n To her lover's house, and laid her on his bed!\n With face averted, lying closely curled,\n (For who may turn the tide when passion flows?)\n She hides her face beneath the wimple,--\n The frightened moon escaping from the storm.\n No word comes out, she hears nought that is said,\n Repeatedly she folds her hands imploringly:\n With covering arms she guards the treasures of her life,--\n She needs no bodice to enfold her breasts.\n Insistently from sight and touch alike\n She keeps her jewels hidden in the granary of Love,--\n A matter for her maidens' mocking many days,\n Now learning her the lore of Love.\n _Vidy\u0101pati finds great delight herein:_\n _For at a sudden touch, she pushes out her hand!_\nXLVII.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ Enough! and cast the trouble from your heart.\n Be not afraid, go to your lover's side:\n Have done with obstinacy, for I tell you\n Never can be joy without its pain.\n But half a grain of grief, and then a life of gladness\n Why are you so averse to this, my girl?\n Just for a moment shut your eyes,\n As a sick man drinks his draught.\n _Go, Beauty, go, and play loves game,_\n _Vidy\u0101pati prays for your consent._\nXLVIII.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ O Hari, if you will insist on touching me,\n The sin of murdering a wife will fall on you:\n You are a guileful lover full of passion\n I know not whether it be sweet or bitter.\n When passion is outpoured, I shiver\n Like an arrow-smitten bounding antelope:\n O do not realise your hopes before the time,--\n Savour is never lacking to the wise man's end.\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: I see it clear,_\n _That honeyed fruit is never green._\nXLIX.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ How to direct the flying arrows of her restless eyes\n The Archer-guru teaches her the unfamiliar lesson\n (And who would practise uninformed?)\n 'Oh do not take my life by force!\n Toy not with me, O K\u0101nu,--release my skirt;\n I am so faint, I fear love's war.\n How can my early youth content your will at all?\n A little riches cannot satisfy a beggar.\n The unblown jasmine of the early spring\n Cannot appease the hunger of the lusty bees:\n There cannot be a happy ending of a sinful deed--\n Be not so rash, when you ought rather hesitate.'\n _Says Vidy\u0101pati: Oh amorous K\u0101nu!_\n _The maddened elephant heeds not the goad._\nL.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ With soft persuasion all the maidens\n Led her to her lover's side,\n A fawn ensnar\u00e9d from the forest\n The sweet-face sits beside the bed\n With busily averted looks,\n Her mind wide-wandering,--\n Love breathing hard.\n Cruel is Love, and loveliness is stubborn,\n She will not follow reason:\n Fast is her girdle knotted, bodice bound,\n And barriers before her lips.\n Her body closely swathed on neither side\n A glimpse revealed,\n She yields her life at a hand's touch,--\n How may Hari win his will?\n _Unhappy K\u0101nta lays how many prayers_\n _Upon the maiden's feet,_\n _Hurting her soul (so R\u0101dh\u0101 thinks):_\n _Such is the song of Vidy\u0101pati._\nABHIS\u0100RA\nLI.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ Gainlier than a royal olifant, more graceful than the swan,\n She goes to keep her tryst:\n Her glorious body far surpasses any golden bud,\n Or flawless flash of lightning.\n Her tresses far surpass the clouds, the night, the yak,\n Her eyebrow-tendril set on a crescent brow, surpasses\n Bow and bees and snakes.\n Her face excels the golden mirror, the moon, the lily,\n Her lips the bimba-fruit and coral:\n Her teeth surpass the pearl, the jasmine and the granate seed.\n Her neck the figure of the conch.\n Her beauteous breasts surpass the honey apple, or twin\n Or golden jars, mountains, or goblets:\n Her arms excel the lotus-root and jungle-rope.\n Her waist the drum's and lion's.\n Softer than moss her vine of down and darker than the s\u016brm,\n The triple folds are lovelier than rolling waves:\n Her navel far surpasses any lake, or lotus-leaves.\n Her buttocks, head of olifant.\n Her thighs excel the plaintain-stem, or trunk of royal olifant.\n Her hands and feet, the lotus of the land:\n Her nails surpass pomegranate-seeds, the moon, or gems.\n Her speech is more than nectar-sweet.\n _Says Vidy\u0101pati: Her shape is unsurpassed,_\n _Peerless is R\u0101dh\u0101's beauty:_\n _R\u0101j\u0101 Shivasimha R\u016bpan\u0101r\u0101yana_\n _Is the eleventh Avatar!_\nLII.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ R\u0101dh\u0101's love is young,\n No obstacle can stay her:\n She has started all alone,\n Reckless of any path.\n She casts away the jewelled necklace\n That weighed upon her jutting breasts:\n She casts the rings and bracelets from her hands.\n And leaves them all along the road.\n The jewelled anklets from her feet\n She flings afar and hurries on:\n The night is very thick and black,\n But Love lights up the gloom.\n The way is fraught with dangers\n Which love's weapon overcomes:\n _Vidy\u0101pati knows your mind--_\n _Never was such another seen._\nLIII.\n_Krishna:_ The night is late, the fair one timorous and fearful:\n When will she of the olifant gait be here?\n The path is filled with dreadful snakes,\n How many dangers do her path beset, and she with feet\n To the feet of Providence I trust her,\n Success attend the Beauty's tryst!\n The sky is black, the earth is sodden,--\n My heart is anxious for her danger.\n Heavy the darkness in every airt,--\n Her feet may slip, she cannot find the path:\n Her glance beguiles each living thing\n Lakshm\u012b comes in human form!\n _Says Vidy\u0101pati the poet:_\n _The maid enamoured yields to none but Love._\nLIV.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ She veils her face, that lady shene,--\n They tell the king: The moon is stolen.\n O lovely lover, how may you not be seen\n By watchmen keeping watch in every house?\n Let not your smile flash out, sweet-face,\n Murmur but soft and low the music of your words,--\n For near your lips are lustrous teeth.\n As near the vermeil mark is set a pearl.\n Hearken, hearken, to my words of counsel,\n Even in dreams may nothing hinder:\n The moon differs from you but in her spots,\n For she is stained, and you are stainless.\n _Ha! R\u0101j\u0101 Shivasimha and Lakshm\u012b Dev,_\n _Says Vidy\u0101pati: My heart is fearless._\nLV.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ The citizens are waking on the king's highway,\n Rays of the moon light up the dome of earth:\n No peace in new-born love,--\n I am amazed to see you. Loveliness!\n How many ways the damsel seeks to hide herself:\n She goes a-trysting in a boy's disguise.\n And binds her flowing tresses in a knot.\n Changing diversely the fashion of her dress.\n And since her breasts may not be hidden by their veil,\n She clasps an instrument of music to her bosom:\n Thus she attains the darkness of the forest,--\n The Lord of lovers cannot know her when he sees her!\n Perplexed is M\u0101dhava, when he perceives her,\n But at a touch the riddle is resolved.\n _Says Vidy\u0101pati: What happened then,--_\n _What sports of Love ensued?_\nVASANTA L\u012aL\u0100\nLVI.\n_Kavi:_ Came the lord of seasons,--Royal Spring:\n The hosts of bees besieged the m\u0101dhav\u012b flowers,\n The sun's rays reached their youthful powers,\n The keshara flowers upheld the sceptre of the king.\n Fresh p\u012btal flowers composed the royal throne,\n Golden blossoms raised the state umbrella.\n And mango-buds the crest above:\n Before the king the koils sang the pancam-note.\n The peacocks danced, the bees buzzed,\n The twice-born sang the blessing spells:\n Enamoured of the southern breeze.\n The pollen of the flowers upraised a canopy.\n Jasmine and honey-apple bore the banner:\n P\u0101tal the quiver, rows of ashoka trees the arrows.\n Seeing the allied kimshuk and labanga-vine\n The Winter season broke before the Spring.\n The army was a swarm of honey-bees\n That rooted out the Winter utterly:\n The rescued lotus came to life.\n Offering its fresh leaves for a throne.\n _There is delight in Brind\u0101ban, says Vidy\u0101pati,_\n _Befitting what shall there befall._\nLVII.\n_Kavi:_ In Brind\u0101ban renewed the groves are green,\n The flowers new-spread:\n The Spring is new, and the new southern breeze\n Excites the swarms of lusty bees.\n The bloom of youth disports.\n The bowers beside K\u0101lind\u012b's banks display unwonted loveliness,\n New snares of love are laid:\n The bees are frenzied by new sappy buds,\n The callow koils are a-calling.\n The new young maidens, maddened with new longings,\n Are hurrying to the groves.\n A new Lord reigns: the lusty lovers young\n Are bright with new-found lustre.\n _For ever and for ever new diversions such as these_\n _Delight the heart of Vidy\u0101pati._\nLVIII.\n_Kavi:_ Drunken are the honey-bees in honey-season\n With the honey of the honey-flowers:\n In Honey-Brind\u0101ban resides\n The Honey-Lord of honey-love.\n Amid the companies of honey-maids\n Is honey-honey-dalliance:\n Honeyed are the blissful instruments of music,\n Honeyed hands are beating honey-measures.\n Honeyed is the dance's sway,\n Honeyed are the movements of the dancers.\n Honeyed are their happy songs,\n _And honeyed are the words of Vidy\u0101pati._\nLIX.\n_Kavi:_ The blissful night of Spring holds sway\n Glad dalliance among, and passionate r\u0101sa-dance;\n And lovely R\u0101dh\u0101, jewel of maids, is filled with longing,--\n Skilled in the dance. He bathes with her in bliss.\n Merrily the company of maidens dancing,--\n Golden bangles tinkling tunefully,--\n Now will they sing an amorous air\n The mode of Spring, more passionate than any other.\n Rab\u0101b, pin\u0101sh, and mah\u0101tik are sounding:\n Murali sports, delighting R\u0101dh\u0101's heart.\n _The merry poet Vidy\u0101pati sings_\n _What R\u016bpan\u0101r\u0101yan his lord, well knows._\nM\u0100NA\nLX.\n_Krishna:_ Refrain your wrath, disdainful lady:\n Breasts that are globes of gold, and serpent-necklace,\n By these I swear,--\n If ever I touch another girl, forsaking you,\n May I be bitten by that necklace-serpent!\n Or if you will not trust my protestation,\n Inflict on me at will a fitting penance:\n Bound in the rope of your two arms, bruise me with your hips.\n Rest on my body the weary burden of your breasts.\n Prison me night and day within your bosom's gaol!\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: This penance is befitting!_\nLXI.\n_D\u016btik\u0101:_ He who was wont to wanton with a flute, has cast away\n He who was wont to wear a yellow weed, now grovels at\n There was a time your eyes would overflow, might you\n Now you will not so much as look upon his face!\n Beauty, abandon your bitter mood.\n Lusty K\u0101nu is praying at your feet:\n By happy hap this amorous Shy\u0101m is yours.\n By happy hap the tide of spring,--\n By happy hap this love's attainment,\n By happy hap this blissful night,--\n Damsel disdainful, will you forsake your Krishna's body,\n And spend your life henceforth in lonely weeping?\n _These be love's ways, says Vidy\u0101pati,--_\n _Yet prayer's denial deserves no praise._\nLXII.\n_D\u016btik\u0101:_ One little moment of a day you keep your youth,--\n The days are floating by:\n Evil and good, these two will travel at your side,--\n The only final gain is what you give to others.\n Beauty, you have had part in killing Hari,\n All day and night he thinks of only you,--\n This is his hour of separation!\n In sorrow's sea he swims or sinks,--\n Show him your glob\u00e9d breasts:\n O worthy fair one, Gokula's Lord preserve,\n And win the praise of the Triple Worlds!\n _Of a myriad lovers, whosoever looks on K\u0101na,_\n _Deems that day is blest:_\n _Frenzied is Hari by reason of your fury_\n _The poet Vidy\u0101pati avows._\nLXIII.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ You shall not tell me otherwise, my dear:\n Little by little I came to know him better,\n That K\u0101nu is so cunning.\n He made a sweetmeat of some knotty wood,\n By smearing treacle on it:\n Filling with poison a golden jar,\n He added a layer of milk!\n Yet surely K\u0101n is good, and I am bad,\n Because his words beguile me:\n In heart and speech He is the same,\n Matchless amidst a myriad.\n _The same flower that you cast away, the same you use\n _And with the same you string the bow:_\n _Such is the quality of K\u0101nu s speech._\n _The poet Vidy\u0101pati avows._\nLXIV.\n_D\u016btika:_ O lovely wrathful lady, stony-heart,\n In such a plight he is, and yet you say no word!\n True love's way is not of such a sort;\n It is befitting you should mix with him.\n When for his loneliness his life is forfeit,\n With whom will you continue anger then?\n Who says your heart is soft?\n Never was heart so hard as yours!\n _If now you do not mix with M\u0101dhava,_\n _The poet Vidy\u0101pati will never speak with you again._\nLXV.\n_Kavi:_ With hanging head, she writes upon the ground,\n Whoever utters Shy\u0101ma's name, she utterly ignores\n Over her glowing robe her hair falls free,\n She casts away her jewels and all her fine array.\n Her face is like a lord of rosy lilies, void of sap:\n The earth is flooded with her streaming tears.\n Just then the Lady of the Forest came\n And said: 'Fair maid, go we to serve the Sun.'\n _But she of the hanging head made no reply._\n _Says Vidy\u0101pati: She went away._\nLXVI.\n_Krishna:_ 'Why veil your face, dear beautiful?\n You've stolen my wits away:\n You have no dread of slaying men,\n Your courage is unbounded!\n 'O wrathful lady, my heart is frenzied,\n No more I may sustain the pangs of Madan,\n But come to you for refuge.\n 'Whether two towering hills, or cups of gold,\n I gaze and cannot tell:\n And on each breast is Shambhu reverenced,\n Framed in his crescent moon.\n 'I fain would touch them with these lotus hands\n If fate be not forbidding:\n I seek a sanctuary at your feet--\n (O that the damsel may be kind!)'\n Seeing her restlessness, I was distraught.\n My heart beat fast.\n _Hearken, young damsel, says Vidy\u0101pati:_\n _Bestow some boon on K\u0101na._\nLXVII.\n_Krishna:_ Hearken, hearken, worthy R\u0101dh\u0101,\n For what offence do you refuse my company?\n How many stars have risen in the sky,\n But the moon is another Avat\u0101r!\n What more in special can I say?\n In a host of a myriad Lakshm\u012bs I have eyes for none.\n _And hearing this the maiden's heart dissolved in tears,_\n _And his desires were realised._\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: There was reunion;_\n _All were astonished at the tale!_\nLXVIII.\n_Krishna:_ Your high round breasts--like golden cups--\n And curving eyes, have stolen my wits away:\n O lady fair, forbear your bitter fury,\n And give the frenzied bee his draught of honey!\n I clasp your hands, my fair sweet girl,\n Be not so cruel, have pity on my lot:\n How many times must I advise you\n I may no more sustain the sting of love!\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: You know full well._\n _That hope deferred is worse than death._\nLXIX.\n_Dutik\u0101:_ Hearken, O M\u0101dhava: R\u0101dh\u0101 is waxen wilful,--\n How carefully and in how many ways I warned her.\n And yet the beauty gave no answer!\n The lovely creature when she hears your name,\n Covers her ears with her hands:\n She who thought that your love was for ever new.\n Now will not even hear you speak!\n I laid before her a lock of your hair.\n Flowers and grass and pan:\n But the wrathful face of a lily she would not turn,--\n She sat unmoved, with face averted.\n _This heart of yours forsooth, is lightning's very essence,--_\n _How shall I soothe your fury?_\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: A kind word would be fitting;_\n _But you yourself be still, O K\u0101na._\nLXX.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ At last, my dear, I see how K\u0101na is uncouth:\n An axe of brass, useless for any work,\n A layer of tinsel over it!\n Albeit I showed him angry eyes, how came it that the mountains\n Slipped in two thick roads?\n Taking the sh\u0101lmal for the sandal, he clasped it close,--\n But there was a thorny dart!\n He who has spent his life amongst the beasts,\n What can he know of Rati's ways?\n This is a night of nectar, but I spent it vainly\n With yonder boorish Herdsman!\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: Hearken, young woman:_\n _He is not ever a boor!_\n _You are uncouth yourself, your trade is herding too,_\n _You cannot lay such blame on Hari!_\nLXXI.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ There bloomed a flower of golden shene,\n My hope was high the fruit would be a gem,\n I fed its roots with streams of milk;\n I saw no fruit, and all was vanity!\n I am the simple daughter of a cowherd,\n And this unworthy love is worse than death;\n What woe, Alas, has Fate afflicted me,--\n For hope of gain, I lost my all!\n _This is Vidy\u0101pati' s conclusion:_\n _You cannot make a dogs tail straight._\nLXXII.\n_Krishna:_ The sun is in the East, the tide of night has ebbed,\n The moon is merging in the sky.\n The water-lily closed,--and even so, my lady fair,\n Your lily-face is shut.\n A lily-face, two lotus-eyes,\n And lips of honey.\n All your body flower-wrought,--\n Why is your heart of stone?\n Your hands are wasted, and you wear no bracelets,\n Even a garland is a weary burden:\n And yet you will not cast away your mountain load of pride--\n What wicked ways are yours!\n _Now leave these wrongs, give Hari bliss, my fair,_\n _Now with the dawn, give over wrath:_\n _R\u0101j\u0101 Shivasimha R\u016bpan\u0101r\u0101yana,_\nLXXIII.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ Beauty, of lineage and courtesy, without your eyes--\n The best of lovers--what may you do?\n How may you make jap-tap, or alms bestow or vows accomplish.\n Who have no pity on the pitiful?\n 'I would advise you very seriously, my dear:\n One such a virtue many a sin may cancel,\n A single sin destroys the fruit of many virtues.\n 'Though brother to the poison, thief of a guru's wife.\n And vomited from Rahu's jaws.\n Scorching divided lovers, slayer of water-lilies,--\n Yet for his merits the moon shines bright!\n 'Loving another's children, careless of his own,\n The crow drinks dregs of love:\n Yet an only word of His, wipes all those faults away,--\n He speaks such honey-words.'\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ 'What can I say, my dear, of K\u0101na's love--\n The roothless root of every virtue?\n Touching His flute He makes a hundred vows\n But even then I cannot trust Him.\n 'Renewed embraces: kissing me upon His lap,\n He makes protest of loyalty!\n But He has spent the night beside some other girl,\n And emptied me of hope.\n 'In something more than fire my body burns\n I see the seal of Rati on every limb.'\n _Life may expire, says Vidy\u0101pati,_\n _And yet you will not mix with Hari!_\nLXXIV.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ Hearken, prithee, heartless Hari,\n Fie on your such love!\n Why did you speak of keeping tryst,\n And with another maiden spent the night?\n You make pretence of love for R\u0101i,\n And dally with another girl:\n Who says brave K\u0101nu is best of lovers?\n No such another fool is in the world.\n Refusing ruby, you seek for glass,\n Leaving an lake of nectar, you long for brine,\n Forsaking a sea of curds, to wanton in a well,--\n Fie on your amorous blandishment!\n _Vidy\u0101pati the lord of poets avows:_\n _R\u0101dh\u0101 will never look upon your face again._\nLXXV.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ Thirsting for fragrance I flew to the flower\n But never I came the near,\n I saw not a drop of the ocean of honey,\n And now the people mock me.\n And lo, my dear, the bee bewitched by someone else\n And no one passes any judgment thereupon:\n By little steps I came to understand him better,\n How is his heart as fickle as the lightning.\n Forsaking the lily, he followed the screw-pine,\n Inhaling its fragrance:\n But the thorns have pierced his body\n His face is smeared with dust.\n Somewhat hurt, I think, he comes again to me,\n As though he had been disappointed:\n There is one flavour men have never understood--\n Distinction of the good and bad.\n _Hearken, my good girl, says Vidy\u0101pati;_\n _Love is only understood by lovers,--_\n _R\u0101j\u0101 Shivasimha is the storehouse of all virtues._\n _And R\u0101n\u012b Lakshm\u012b Dev\u012b his wife!_\nM\u0100N\u0100NTE MILNA\nLXXVI.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ The wrath of the wrathful fled afar\n K\u0101nu sank in a sea of nectar:\n But when he asked for her embrace,\n Albeit heavy with love, her lovely body might not bend.\n Honeyed was the swain's speech,\n Tremulous the beauty's sighs;\n Her Lord enfolded her upon his lap.\n But yet the flow of nectar was but little.\n Gently he kissed her face--her eyes were full of tears,\n And though her heart was full of love, yet love was lacking;\n Bravely he touched her bosom with his hands.\n But even then desire would not awake.\n And when at last he loosed her girdle.\n Then even, in Hari's bliss, desire was cold.\n And even then she felt no gladness:\n _Is it pleasure or pain, says Vidy\u0101pati?_\nLXXVII.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ Peerless R\u0101dh\u0101 beside Mur\u0101ri,--\n Her wrath broke down, whose wrath was stubborn!\n M\u0101dhava kisses R\u0101dh\u0101's face,\n Looks on her moon-face with brimming eyes.\n All of her maidens were filled with joy,\n Madan entered the hearts of both.\n Twain were enraptured, each in the other's lap:\n _A sight that fills Vidy\u0101pati with bliss._\nLXXVIII.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ 'Tell me, O Beauty, what were the night's delights.\n How did your Lord fulfil your hopes?\n (How curiously, methinks, has Providence\n Created man and maid!)\n You are the fairest woman of the world\n And have attained Mur\u0101ri, worthiest of men.'\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ 'I am not able to recite my lover's love,\n The fates have not bestowed on me a myriad mouths!\n Doffing his necklace of ivory pearls,\n With care he set it on my neck:\n Taking my hands, he set me on his lap,\n And cooled my limbs with fragrant sandal.\n 'He loosed my locks (so neatly bound),\n And wreathed them with a campak garland;\n With honey-honey-glances K\u0101na gazed on me,\n His eyes brimmed over with tears of joy.'\n _Billows of love, says Vidy\u0101pati:_\n _Hearken, my dear, I sing their Union._\nLXXIX.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ Measureless virtue! whereso yearning bodies meet--\n Now there has been indissoluble union of the twain:\n How many a one essayed this way and that,\n Yet none availed to put the twain asunder!\n Never any household in the wicked world\n Has seen such love as this, a very fount of milk!\n If one should fetch it to the fire\n And stir the milk to separate the water,\n The milk, exulting in the heat, boils over--\n Goaded by separation pangs, it leaps into the fire!\n If any one should pour more water in it,\n Then the separation-pangs withdraw afar.\n _Avows Vidy\u0101pati: Love is such,_\n _And such the love of R\u0101dh\u0101-M\u0101dhava._\nLXXX.\n_R\u0101dha:_ Very cunning is my K\u0101na,\n Without any spell he broke my wrath!\n He appeared to-day in a yogi's weed--\n Who can explain such singular gestes?\n At the will of my mother-in-law I went to give him alms,\n When he saw my face, he began to murmur words of love,\n And he said: 'The gift I ask is the jewel of your pride,'--\n (Then I could tell what guile was his!)\n 'Tis shame to recite all that he said.\n Nobody knows the Lord of lovers!\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: lovely R\u0101i,_\n _How can you plumb the depth of his cunning?_\nLXXXI.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ What can I tell of to-day's affair my dear?\n A jewel fell to the hands of a fool\n Who knows not the price of gold or glass,\n And reckons alike the jewels and _ga\u00f1ja_ seeds,\n Who is lacking in lore of crafts of love,\n And reckons milk and water the same:\n How can I feel affection for him?\n Shall a necklace of pearls adorn the neck of a monkey?\n _Wise in this savour, Vidy\u0101pati asks:_\n _Has pan ever graced the_ mouth _of a monkey?_\nLXXXII.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ What shall I tell you, dear gay friend?\n I cannot speak of to-day's disports:\n I was lying alone on my flowery bed,\n Love was my fellow, armed with his flowery darts.\n K\u0101na came with his tinkling anklets,\n In jest I lay with eyes closed:\n K\u0101na came nigh and sat beside me,\n I turned my face to hide my laughter.\n Hari lifted from my locks their flowery chaplet,\n And gave me his crest of peacock feathers:\n With elaborate care he took the pearl from my nose\n And lifted the necklet from my neck!\n Loosing the bodice, my dear one lost his wits!\n Then Madan woke, and I bound the thief my arms:\n _Says Vidy\u0101pati: A learned wanton he--_\n _You may be lovesome, but your lover is a master of\n _In you there is love, but he is a lover all-wise in loving!_\nLXXXIII.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ I was still very wrathful.\n But my lover disguised as a girl dissolved my pride:\n What can I tell of the pranks of to-day, my dear?\n For there came K\u0101n with the maiden-messenger!\n He bound his curling hair in a knot,\n The Lord of lovers dressed like a girl!\n He put on a necklace and made a breast in his bosom,\n He put on his feet a jewelled anklet.\n First he put his left foot foremost,--\n Ratipati danced with his flowery bow;\n I looked with amazement,--and fondled him freely,\n With downbent glances, I set him in my lap!\n When I touched his body so full of love,\n The pride of my wrath fled Under-earth,\n I stood all astonished, with finger to nose.\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: The quarrel was ended!_\nLXXXIV.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ My frolicsome friend, what shall I say?\n There was another prank, unspeakable:\n Naked of any weed, I sat alone at home,\n When he of the lotus-eyes appeared unseen!\n To hide my body on either side revealed the other,\n (O open wide and let me sink into the earth!)\n Seeking to cover my breasts with my hands, I could not,--\n Just as the snow may not conceal the southern hills.\n Out on you, fie! my life, my youth, my honour,\n The Lord of Braj gazed on my limbs to-day!\n _O amorous Rai, Vidy\u0101pati says,_\n _Could you outwit such wit as his?_\nLXXXV.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ O mother mine, what can I say to-day!\n The stain sticks fast, for all washing with water:\n After my bath, and climbing K\u0101lind\u012b's bank,\n The filmy muslin clung to my limbs,\n That all my shape was clearly seen,--\n And there was Yaduvira just before me!\n My buttocks broad were plain to see,\n I turned me round and over them shook my hair:\n And when he fixed his gaze upon my breasts,\n I turned my back on Hari and sat me down.\n But cunning M\u0101dhava scanned my body with smiling face,\n The body I sought to hide would not be hidden!\n _You are a witless maid, says Vidy\u0101pati:_\n _Why did you not return to the water?_\nLXXXVI.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ My mother-in-law was asleep, and I lay in her lap,\n And love-learned K\u0101nu was lurking behind.\n Somehow I made it clear to him by signs:\n 'Will you give over fooling, or shall I begone?\n 'Refrain this affection, O foolish lover,--\n As at this time your prayers are not to be granted!\n (Can there be any pleasure in embraces from behind,\n Shall thirst for water be slaked with milk?)'\n Bending his face to mine, how did he drink the nectar of my lips\n How often silently he laid his hand upon my breasts,\n Nor let betray him any panting breath,--\n What laughing battles were fought with flashing teeth!\n _My mother-in-law awoke, and K\u0101na ran away:_\n _My hopes were not fulfilled, says Vidy\u0101pati._\nLXXXVII.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ I was alone, and weaving garlands,\n My skirt and bodice were unloosed,\n And then came K\u0101nu with quiet smiles!\n (How shall I hide my bosom and my girdlestead?)\n My darling clasped me with a merry laugh,\n Modesty and shame departed to the underworld--\n (How may I dout the lamp, that's out of reach of hands?)\n And yet my brazen life dies not of shame!\n _This is the very work of love, says Vidy\u0101pati:_\n _Wherefore this shame of him to whom your life is dedicate?_\nLXXXVIII.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ To-day my awkward shame was far away,\n He realised his heart's desires:\n What shall I say, my dear? (I smile to speak of it,)\n So very marvellous was the dalliance of to-day.\n The toppling clouds fell down on earth,\n The pleasant mountain-kings rose up on high:\n I likewise, gazing in the emerald mirror,\n Fell there where neither up nor down are known.\n Newly advised was K\u0101n, my lord,\n His sayings overpowered me:\n He gave a refuge to the homeless--\n Shamefast I was and hid my heart's fire.\n The prince of wantons folded me upon his lap.\n And with the wimple wiped the dews of weariness,\n Fanning me gently, I fell asleep.\n _Vidy\u0101pati exclaims: Delight beyond compare!_\nLXXXIX.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ What can I say, my dear? 'Tis measureless!\n Whether this was a dream, or real, I cannot tell,\n Or very near, or far away.\n Beneath the winding lightning, darkness came to birth,\n Within, a river of heavenly nectar:\n The wavering darkness swallowed the sun and moon.\n On every hand the stars were falling!\n The heavens fell, the hills were overthrown,\n The earth quaked hard,\n Stormily rose the sighing winds,\n The swarms of bees buzzed:\n Like an ocean of chaos the waters overflowed,--\n Yet this was not an \u00e6on's ending!\n _How can I trow this contrary tale?_\n _Vidy\u0101pati makes enquiry._\nXC.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ Her wandering hair was mingled with the circle of her face--\n A wreath of clouds across the moon:\n Jewelled earrings swung from her ears,\n Her tilka ran with sweat.\n (Beauty, of fortune-yielding face:\n If you should still wage Rati's war,\n How may Hari-Hara save?)\n Bracelets musical, and bangles noisy,\n Anklets clinking:\n Drunk with the wine of love, Love yielded,--\n Victory, Victory! by beat of drum!\n For when from the loins arose a muffled sound,\n The warrior was crushed:\n _Vidy\u0101pati's Master wins such bliss,--_\n _Yamun\u0101 and Gang\u0101 mingling._\nXCI.\n_Kavi:_ Shy\u0101ma is drunk with Madan's drowsy wine,\n With smiles he takes the moon-face on his lap--\n Wanton glances, gentle laughter,\n Leaning of limbs, amorous murmuring.\n Amorous she, and passionate K\u0101n,\n Heart upon heart, face on face,\n Both are drunken, both are archers:\n _Such song of love shapes Vidy\u0101pati._\nXCII.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ If you would have my love, O M\u0101dhava\n Make Madan witness to this document:\n 'You will abandon dalliance 'neath the kadamb,\n You will have no more regard to parents.\n Even in dreams you will see only me,\n And never drink but to my eyes,\n Night and day will sing my praise,\n And take no other maiden on your lap.'\n When I shall have such covenant in hand,\n Then I will speak of love with you!\n _Hearken, brave K\u0101n, to Vidy\u0101patis advice,--_\n _Preserve your dignity even at cost of life!_\nXCIII.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ Like to the tool that trims the jewels of her toes,\n Gokula's darling grovelled on the ground:\n Unceasing tears were flowing down his face,\n How many ways my love besought me!\n O evil day! for I was proud,--\n And now my brazen heart declines to die!\n Who would have thought black wrath could be so dangerous,\n Or that a jewel could be changed to clay?\n I have been luckless in my woman's lot:\n My refuge is in death, I was too proud!\n _Hearken, lady R\u0101i, says Vidy\u0101pati:_\n _I shall explain the reason of your weeping._\n\u0100KSHEPA ANUYOGA O VIRAHA\nXCIV.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ The mournful beauty, gazing on K\u0101nu's face,\n Was sobbing loud with brimming eyes:\n The peerless moon-face, when he said 'Farewell,'\n Fell fey upon the ground, with cries of 'Hari, Hari!'\n How distractedly did Hari comfort her,--\n 'Now I shall not go to Mathura':\n When this sweet sound reached her ears,\n The lovesick nymph revived.\n And taking K\u0101nu's hands in hers.\n She lifted them to touch her head:\n 'Say unmistakeably, good K\u0101n, my lord,\n 'I will not go to Mathura.''\n And when the damsel had this comfort,\n She raised herself again, and sighed no more.\n _Mur\u0101ri went his way, when R\u0101i was soothed--_\n _Vidy\u0101pati refrains from words!_\nXCV.\n_D\u016btika:_ M\u0101dhava, O moon-face,\n Never can you have known the sting of separation!\n Hearing you are departed to another land, she wastes away:\n O wretched R\u0101i, bereft of wit by force of love!\n Refusing even buds of flowers, she lies exhausted on the ground,\n The calling of the koil fills her with fear,\n Her tears have washed the beauty-spots away,\n Her wasted arms let slip their ornaments.\n With hanging head R\u0101dh\u0101 regards her throat,\n Now are her fingers raw with writing on the ground:\n _Says Vidy\u0101pati: Recollecting all his ways,_\n _And taking count of them, she fainted._\nXCVI.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ A sorry end to all my love, my dear,\n To let my life depend upon a wanton,--\n Nowhere to look for help!\n I could not see the hidden well,\n But as I ran, I fell therein:\n At first I nowise knew the heavy from the light,--\n Now would I might return!\n His honey-speech I understood for love,\n At first I knew no better:\n I yielded all my skill into another's hands,\n Pride had fled afar my heart.\n Till now I led another way of life,\n But now I know what drowning is:\n I with my own hands sharped the stake,\n Whom can I blame now?\n _Hearken, fair young thing says Vidy\u0101pati:_\n _No other thought be in your heart!_\n _Oft is life lost for sake of love,_\n _Who does not know this in the world?_\nXCVII.\nR\u0101dh\u0101: Why would you burn my body, O thou Bodiless?\n I am not Shankara, but a gentle girl,\n This is my flowing hair, not matted locks,\n Not Gang\u0101, but a jasmine garland on my head.\n This is a pearl tiara, not the moon,\n No eye upon my forehead, but a scarlet beauty-spot:\n Not poison, but a trace of musk upon my throat,\n A necklace on my breast, and not the lord of serpents.\n Blue silk my robe, and not a tiger's skin,\n This is a lotus of delight, and not a skull!\n _All this is loveliness, says Vidy\u0101pati:_\n _Not ashes on her limbs, but dust of Malaya._\nXCVIII.\n_D\u016btika:_ Often, in meditation on the name of M\u0101dhava,\n She changes into M\u0101dhava himself:\n Forgetful of her own desires and of her own identity,\n She is enamoured of her own charms.\n O M\u0101dhava, your love is peerless!\n The fire of sundering from herself devours her body\n I doubt if she may live.\n Her friends are filled with grief, so sadly she regards them,\n The tears are pouring from their eyes:\n The cry of 'R\u0101dh\u0101, R\u0101dh\u0101,' echoing repeatedly,\n She murmurs broken words.\n When she is with R\u0101dh\u0101, she thinks that she is M\u0101dhava,\n And when with M\u0101dhav, R\u0101dh\u0101:\n And even so, this bitter love may not be broken asunder.\n The pang of separation hurts her more and more.\n Just as a tree both sides aflame quite utterly consumes\n Some wretched insect's life:\n _In such a plight, Vallabha, I saw the nectar-face,_\n _Says Vidy\u0101pati._\nXCIX.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ Where wanton Mur\u0101ri is wont to sit,\n There write my name or twice or thrice:\n Lay by his side the jewels from my body,\n This is my life's last prayer!\n And all the number of my friends, write ye my name,--\n Kind was my darling, only fate was cruel.\n I die indeed, for K\u0101nu's sake:\n Seek some occasion to ask news of him.\n Once on a day let my beloved write my name,\n And pour the lustring water with his rosy hands!\n _Hearken fair damsel, says Vidy\u0101pati:_\n _Be patient of heart, you shall meet your Mur\u0101ri!_\nC.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ Hari has gone to Mathur\u0101 town.\n And Gokula is void to-day,\n My ribs are all shrunken with weeping,\n The cows are roaming on the road to Mathur\u0101.\n Herdsmen and maidens no more wandering\n Beside the Jamun\u0101's banks,--\n I shall cast my life away in the waves,\n And I will be born again as K\u0101nu!\n Then shall K\u0101nu be R\u0101dh\u0101,\n To suffer the pangs of love.\n _Vidy\u0101pati gives this advice:_\n _No need for weeping now!_\nCI.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ Now M\u0101dhav has gone to Mathur\u0101 town,\n (Who can have stolen the jewel of Gokula?)\n Gokul resounds with the noise of weeping.\n See how the waves are swollen with tears!\n Empty the temple, empty the lover,\n Empty each airt, empty all!\n How can I go to Jamun\u0101's banks?\n How can I look on the booths and the groves?\n How can I look on the place and live,\n Where he smothered my friends with flowers?\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: Be well advised,_\n _Maybe he is hiding there in jest!_\nCII.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ Watching with streaming eyes the way her darling went,\n Half a second seems an aeon,--\n 'Fate is most bitter, sundering thus\n Mur\u0101ri far from me!\n 'What shall I do, my dear?\n What karma's fruit is this, my dear one gone abroad?\n Perpetually pierce me the pangs of Madan.\n 'O that a woman's sighs, may fall beside my dear!\n (By whom is my beloved sitting?)\n Were I but a bird, I would fly to his side,\n And describe to him all my distress!\n 'Bring me my darling, and save my life,--\n Will no one take pity?'\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: Soon ye shall meet,_\n _Possess your heart in patience._\nCIII.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ I am a girl on fire, in the temple bird-alone,\n No friend is here with me:\n The rain comes on, my love is gone abroad,\n And cruel Love is hostile.\n This is my day of dissolution,\n Fresh clouds are driving in every quarter,\n My life is flying from the sight.\n Again the thunder roars, my life is shaken as I listen,\n My heart is pounding:\n The cruel peewit, calling 'Piu, piu,'\n Reminds me of his lap.\n And since it rains incessantly, I know my life will end,\n As though in flames of fire.\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: Hearken, fair lady,_\n _The worthy lover shall be yours._\nCIV.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ Even the moon's cool rays are scorching-hot,\n The Spring is comen in:\n Even from a crow's mouth not a word of K\u0101nta!\n What makes this cruel Madan?\n I know, my dear, my evil day is come:\n At what a time has Fate opposed me,\n Denying me to see him more!\n So many days, I kept my body carefully\n And now I know my end is near:\n My last faint hope is but a legend now,--\n How long my wicked heart endures!\n _Evil is Madan's mood, says Vidy\u0101pati:_\n _To whom may you confide your care?_\n _Fiercer than flames of a sea of fire_\n _This bitter severance from your darling!_\nCV.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ Fresh flowers are springing by every cabin, brake and copse.\n The koil sings the pancam note:\n The southern breeze has reached the snowy hills,\n And yet my darling has not come again!\n The lunar sandal burns my body hotly,\n The bees are buzzing in the woods,\n The Spring is here and K\u0101nu far away,\n Unfriendly Fate I see.\n With steadfast gaze to scan my Master's face,\n My eyes have no content:\n So many hardships may a woman's shrivelled heart\n Endure in such a joyful season!\n My body wasting daily, like the winter lotus,\n I know not what the end will be!\n _Fie upon life, for shame, says Vidy\u0101pati,_\n _Pitiless M\u0101dhava's heart!_\nCVI.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ Unhappy I, all birdalone.\n Calling for K\u0101nu, K\u0101n, my life slipped by:\n With promise of return, my lover went away,\n He has forgotten all my former charms!\n The flowers are blowing in every glade,\n Now Spring has come, my dear,\n The host of koils spread their noise:\n My darling is abroad, I may no more sustain!\n To whom shall I confide my heart's distress?\n No living creature of the Triple World such pain may know!\n _Hearken, fair R\u0101i, says Vidy\u0101pati:_\n _I shall expound it all to K\u0101nu._\nCVII.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ There is no limit to my woe, my dear!\n O heavy rains of autumn-tide,\n My house is empty!\n Impenetrable clouds are thundering unceasingly,\n And all the world is full of rain:\n K\u0101nta is a stone, and Love is cruel,\n A rain of arrows pierces me.\n A hundred flashes blind my eyes,\n The peacock dances in an ecstasy:\n The happy frogs but croak and croak,\n My heart is bursting.\n _Utter darkness, night impenetrable,_\n _Unbroken line of lightning:_\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: How may you pass_\n _The day and night alone?_\nCVIII.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ Who says that M\u0101dhava will come, my friend?\n How can I ever cross the sea of longing?\n I have no faith within my heart!\n Expectant every moment, I pass the livelong day,\n Expectant day by day, a month goes by:\n Expectant every month, I pass the year,\n I have forsaken all hope in life.\n Expectant every year, I pass my life\n Wasting my flesh with hopes:\n If the lotus die of the winter moon,\n What shall avail in the spring?\n If the flower be scorched by the summer sun,\n What shall avail the autumn rains?\n If I waste in longing this fresh young life,\n What shall avail my Lover's love?\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: Hearken, young thing:_\n _Do not be hopeless now:_\n _That Bliss of Braja, and Heart's Delight_\n _Shall quickly be at your side!_\nCIX.\n_D\u016btik\u0101:_ O K\u0101n, I saw the tender she beside herself!\n Love is distraught by koil's calls,--\n And day by day she wastes away.\n He stays abroad, he sends no news,--\n How shall the Braj girls live?\n The best and fairest of the world endures\n The poison and the pain of parting!\n She who might have no bed except his bosom,\n Now grovels on the ground,--\n As if the full round moon lay fallen asunder\n In a withered campak garland.\n From then till now I have consoled her,\n Nought else has saved her life!\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: O pitiless M\u0101dhava,_\n _She swooned away to hear your name!_\nCX.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ Making a promise to return 'To-morrow,' her lover went away,--\n Writing the word 'To-morrow,' the wall is full!\n The day had dawned, she asked of everyone:\n Tell me, O tell me, when will to-morrow come?\n 'Awaiting to-morrow, abandoning hope,--\n Never again shall I lie by K\u0101nu's side.'\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: Hearken, fair damsel:_\n _The beauties of the town are holding him back._\nCXI.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ Everyone praises the gifts of love,\n That love whereby the virtuous woman is made a wanton!\n Had I but known how cruel was love,\n Should I have passed the limits of sin?\n Now it has come to be poison to me:\n Let no one set their love on Hari, on Hari!\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: Hearken, fair damsel:_\n _Would you first drink water and then consider\nCXII.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ How many reproaches and scornful words of my elders\n I counted for nought in my heart, deep-laden in love.\n For whose sake I forsook without shame the path of duty,\n He now has forsaken my companionship.\n Now dearest maiden, tell Murari for me and remind him,\n 'The worthy forsake not any without regard to their innocence.'\n O dear companion, he that is wise,\n Even though sentence be harsh, does justice at least.\n What more can I say, that am but a helpless woman?\n It is you that are skilled in speech and full of resource.\n Tell K\u0101nu this with honeyed words,\n I pray you do it, appease his wrath.\n For your wiles are many, and what do I know?\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: This song is of love._\nCXIII.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ I never thought that love would break,\n Or that the love of any worthy one might be a stone.\n Therefore it is this great misfortune has befallen me,\n I cannot fathom what Fate has wrought.\n And tell my friend, my dear, with folded hands,\n 'It is but fruitless to destroy the flower of love.'\n If he should answer, 'You are senseless,'\n Say that I gave my heart with a free good will.\n _Vidy\u0101pati declares: I am amazed;_\n _He whom you love, it seems, is blind!_\nCXIV.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ Explain this all to K\u0101nu, dearest friend:\n 'If you who sowed the seeds of love, destroy the flower,\n In what way shall I live?\n 'Just as a drop of oil floats on the surface of the water,\n Such is the likeness of your love:\n Just as the water on the sand immediately vanishes,\n Such is the way of your affection.'\n I was a woman of honour, and am become a wanton\n Since his words beguiled me:\n I with my own hands shaved my head\n Because of K\u0101nu's love.\n Deep in my heart I am grieved, like the wife of a thief,\n And hide my face within my veil:\n Like the eager moth's that flings itself on the flame\n Was the fruit I sought to enjoy.\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: This is the way of the Kali age,_\n _Let no one wonder thereat:_\n _Everyone reaps the fruit of his folly_\n _Who puts himself in another s power._\nCXV.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ I am dying, am dying, I die indeed, my dear:\n To whom shall I leave my K\u0101nu, my storehouse of treasure?\n As many as may be, dear friends, remain by me,\n And when I am dead, write Krishna's name along my limbs.\n And Lalita, friend of my life, whisper such spells in my ears\n That my body may die to the sound of Krishna's name:\n Nor burn nor cast in the waters R\u0101dh\u0101's body,\n But hang me high on a tam\u0101l bough, when I am dead.\n The tam\u0101l tree is of Krishna's hue,\n There let my body ever rest:\n If ever again my darling comes to Brind\u0101ban,\n I shall come to life at the sight of my dear.\n If I may not see his moon-fair face again,\n I shall cast off my life in the fire of love!\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: Hearken, fair damsel,_\n _Be patient of heart, you shall meet your Mur\u0101ri._\nCXVI.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ After how long shall this sadness depart?\n When shall the heavy load of this grief be lifted?\n How long shall it be till the moon and the lotus are joined?\n After how many days shall the bee disport with the lily?\n When shall my lover converse with me?\n When will he put his hands on my breasts?\n When will he take my hand to set me on his lap,\n When shall my longing be realised?\n _Hearken, fair woman, says Vidy\u0101pati:_\n _Every sorrow shall fly when Mur\u0101ri is yours._\nCXVII.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ Speak to me, speak to me, dear, and tell me, O tell me,\n Where is the land where my darling dwells?\n For Madan's burning arrows, my body is ablaze\n To hear some news of him.\n What like is she my Lord has met,\n That he is so enamoured?\n Some maid he must have found, my Lord is glad.\n And plunges in my heart an arrow.\n Shatter my bangles of shell, take off my fine array,\n And break my necklace of ivory-pearls,--\n If my dear will forsake me, what is the use of jewels?\n Cast them all in the waves of the Jamun\u0101.\n Wipe from my hair the scarlet line and put it far away.\n All is hopeless without my darling.\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: Hearken young damsel:_\n _Your sorrow is come to an end._\nCXVIII.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ The day that M\u0101dhava went his way\n All those words poured forth:\n My heart was heavy and heavier still to hear,\n The tears were dropping from my eyes.\n When morning dawned, then coming close,\n Did K\u0101nu swear an oath,\n I held his hand upon my head:\n Now all is otherwise.\n Scanning the road, my heart is heavy:\n The m\u0101dhav\u012b vine is flowering,\n The koil is a-calling, _Kuhu, kuhu_, resounding.\n And every bee is buzzing.\n Which is the city where my dear was stolen.\n Pleased by what maid he won?\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: Hearken, young damsel:_\n _The thief is your lover himself._\nCXIX.\n_D\u016btik\u0101:_ A river of tears is flowing from her eyes,\n And on its banks she falls and swoons:\n O M\u0101dhava, your pity is but too perverse,\n You have no fear of murdering a wife.\n Then did her breath grow faint,\n And some were fanning her with lotus-leaves,\n And other clever maids were listening for her breath,\n And I have run to tell you.\n Some say that Hari is a-coming,\n And at that name her wit returns,\n The dusky braid begins to dance upon her breast--\n A serpent black upon a lily's lap.\n Recounting in your heart your former love,\n Come back once more to your own home,\n _Vidy\u0101pati the mighty bard declares:_\n _The wily wight is well aware of all her woe!_\nCXX.\n_D\u016btik\u0101:_ Ah M\u0101dhava, I come just now from seeing R\u0101i:\n For grief of loneliness she answers nought,\n But lies with her face on the earth.\n She lay outstretched on the grassy ground,\n Her body was wasted with love,\n As if with a touchstone the Lord of Five Arrows\n Had proved a streak of gold.\n The orb of her face lay low in the dust--\n (More lovely it seemed therefor):\n The moon in fear of R\u0101hu had fallen down on the floor--\n (Such was the fashion of my delusion).\n What can I say of the pangs of disunion?\n Hearken, most cruel K\u0101nu:\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: She is of good fame,--_\n _You know that her life is in danger._\nCXXI.\n_D\u016btik\u0101:_ M\u0101dhava, lo, I have seen your lovely R\u0101i,--\n Her gaze is fixed like a painted puppet's,\n Friends surround her on every side,\n Exceeding faint is the breath of her nostrils.\n Exceeding thin is her corse, like a streak of gold,\n (None that beholds it believes it hers),\n Bracelets and bangles fall from either wrist,\n Her hair untressed, her head unhidden.\n I cannot solve these sentiments and swoons,--\n Fiercely the fever of longing scorches her relentlessly.\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: Her loveless body_\n _Has abandoned now all love on earth._\nCXXII.\n_D\u016btika:_ M\u0101dhava, prithee, visit yonder babe:\n To-day or to-morrow she is like to die,\n Such burning love she bears!\n Refreshing water, lotus-leaves upon her bed,\n Or ointment of sandal-paste,\n Each and all are flames of fire;\n The moon with tenfold heat annoys.\n Devoid of might, she leans upon the earth to rise,\n All night she wends and wakes,\n And starting suddenly, she murmurs 'Shiva, Shiva!'\n Her fire has filled the earth.\n _I know not if there be a remedy._\n _Says Vidy\u0101pati the poet:_\n _Nought but the fated tenth-day plight remains,--_\n _Be well-advised forthwith._\nCXXIII.\n_D\u016btika:_ She turns her face away from looking on the moon.\n She stands and gazes piteously down the road;\n With eye-collyrium she makes a painted R\u0101hu\n And speaks with him in wrath.\n M\u0101dhava, unyielding heart, delaying abroad,\n Her that you dallied with I have beheld all birdalone,\n I pray you turn again to home.\n How can the tender child support the southern zephyr?\n For Love is doing her hurt:\n Her breath has ceased, which hope sustained,--\n With every finger she draws a snake.\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: O Lord Shrvasimha,_\n _This is the cure for sundering's sorrow--_\n _Avoiding the koil, and taking sweets in hand,_\n _Loudly to summon the crows._\nCXXIV.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ There was a time my lover leaned above my face in bliss,\n Not for an instant would he leave my body:\n He bound my flesh in a bond of measureless love,\n Who now forsakes my company.\n Why should I live any more, O fair sweet friend?\n He without whom I could not rest for a moment,\n Is filled with the love of another.\n My friend would fare to a far-away land, and I shall\n I will cast away my heart in the sea, and none shall know:\n Or taking the necklace lay on my lover's neck,\n I will wander wide in the world as a yogin\u012b.\n _Vidy\u0101pati Kavi sings of this sundering--_\n _Record I take of R\u0101j\u0101 Shivasimha and Lakshm\u012b Dev\u012b._\nCXXV.\n_D\u016btika:_ M\u0101dhava and the babe new-led in love,--\n You have forgotten her, forsaken to her fate,\n She is become a garland offering.\n She who so loves, I see her frame is fretted,\n She stares upon your path\n With fixed regard, she hears no word,\n Her tears are falling fast.\n Her country is forsaken of your flute,\n Her body is wasted all away\n Most like the narrow streak of gold\n The goldsmith draws upon the touchstone.\n Her hair is disarrayed, she no more tresses it--\n So little might the fair thing has:\n Wasted and worn and woeful I have seen her\n Midst her gay companions.\n Like chaff she flies and falls,\n She needs her friend's embraces:\n Cure of her sickness lies in other hands,\n How may she live?\n _On solemn oath Vidy\u0101pati reveals_\n _A yet more ferly thing:_\n _Pondering ever on your ways_\n _Is the root of her undoing._\nCXXVI.\n_Krishna:_ Can I forget, my dear and gentle lady,\n How when I took her hands, and went my way to Mathur\u0101,\n She fell and fainted?\n Nor with what trembling speech and gentle murmuring\n The fair and gentle creature spake?\n My body stiffened, I came away indeed,\n But there was left my heart with her.\n Now lacking her, the day and night are dimmed,\n She is established in my heart:\n Beside another love in regal state,\n I live like any anchorite!\n Surely I come in a day or twain,\n Make her assured of this.\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: There lies his heart,--_\n _They shall be joined in love._\nPUNARMILNA O RASODG\u0100RA\nCXXVII.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ When Hari comes to Gokula town,\n In every house shall the trumpets flourish 'Victory'!\n I shall give my necklace of pearls for festal knots,\n And my heavy breasts as festal urns.\n I shall offer my nipples as sprouts of the scented mango,\n In M\u0101dhava's service I shall achieve my heart's desires:\n I will set before my beloved incense and light and gifts,\n And do the anointing with tears of joy from my eyes!\n _My outstretched hands shall embrace my dear._\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: This is loves ecstasy._\nCXXVIII.\n_Radha:_ When my dear and blissful lover comes to my garth,\n I shall turn my back with a little smile:\n Wildly my darling will grasp my wimple,--\n And I shall draw back, for all he may do!\n And when my belov\u00e9d asks me to play,\n Then shall my smiling mouth refuse:\n When he shall roughly clasp my breasts,\n My hands shall restrain his hands, half-glances belying.\n For my lover, the proper man is a bee,\n Holding my cheeks will drink the honey of my lips,--\n Then shall he ravish my every sense!\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: Your life is blest!_\nCXXIX.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ When K\u0101na shall come to my house,\n I shall gaze on his moon-face with swimming eyes:\n When as a woman I say 'Nay, nay,'\n Then shall Mur\u0101ri woo me more wildly!\n He will take my hands and set me down on his lap,\n He will soothe my heart for endless time:\n I shall clasp him close, casting out coldness,\n He will fill me with balm, I shall close my eyes!\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: Lo, lovely lady,_\n _Fie on this brazen love of yours!_\nCXXX.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ I spent last night in bliss,\n I saw my darling's moon-face:\n Meseemed my life and youth bore fruit,\n The ten directions were filled with joy.\n I thought to-day that my home was made a home,\n To-day my body became a body indeed:\n Fate has been friendly to me to-day,\n And all my doubts are dissolved.\n Now let the koil call a hundred thousand times,\n A hundred thousand moons may rise!\n Now let the arrows-five become a hundred thousand,\n And southern breezes sigh their softest!\n Now for so long as he leaves me not\n So long I deem my body is verily mine,\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: Your bliss is not little,_\n _Blessing upon your love renewed!_\nCXXXI.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ How shall I tell of my boundless joy, my dear,--\n M\u0101dhav abiding day after day in my house?\n Just so much as the wicked moon annoyed me before,\n Even so much was the joy when I saw my darling's face.\n Even if I might fold in my wimple the best of treasures,\n I would not let go my beloved into a far-away land:\n A shawl in the winter is my beloved, a gentle breeze in\n My dear is a shelter from the storm, and a boat on the river.\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: Lo, lovely lady,_\n _The grief of the goodly endures not for ever._\nCXXXII.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ The hurt that the Lord of the Seasons erstwhile did me,\n All has departed at sight of Hari's face!\n All hopes and desires that were in my heart,\n All are achieved in my Lover's kindness.\n When I lay in His arms every hair of my body was glad,\n In the dew of His lips my grieving melted away:\n Fate has fulfilled the hope of all the days of my life,--\n From bending my eyes upon Him I know no rest.\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: There is grief at an end,_\n _No sickness remains when the cure has been found._\nCXXXIII.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ Fate is now friendly for ever more!\n Each on the other's countenance gazing, twain are rapt--\n Each in the other's arms the other enfolds--\n Twain are the mouths contented each with the nectar of\n Twain are the bodies a-tremble at Madan's behest,\n The jingle of jewels is heard again in the house!\n _What more should I say, Vidy\u0101pati asks:_\n _So as their love is, so is their loving._\nCXXXIV.\n_Sakh\u012b:_ Rare was that meeting of one with the other,\n The grief of disunion vanished afar:\n He has taken her hand and put her down on the painted seat,\n The jewel-Shy\u0101ma disports with the jewel-damsel!\n In many wise playing with diverse delights,\n The bee, as it were, with the lotus delaying:\n Eyes upon eyes and face upon face,\n A chorus of twain entranced by each other's perfections!\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: The Lover is rapt,_\n _The Love-thief has conquered the Triple Worlds!_\nCXXXV.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ A mirror in hand, a flower in my hair,\n Surm of my eyes, t\u0101mb\u016bl of my mouth,\n Musk on my breast, a necklace about my throat,\n All the gear on my body, the life of my house.\n Wings to the bird, and water to fish,\n Life of my life--I know Thou art these--\n But tell me, O M\u0101dhav, what art Thou in sooth?\n _Avers Vidy\u0101pati: Each is both._\nCXXXVL.\n_R\u0101dh\u0101:_ What would you ask of my feelings, my dear,--\n Can I expound such love and affection\n As are moment by moment transformed?\n From the day of my birth I have seen His beauty,\n And yet are my eyes unsatisfied:\n My ears have continually heard His honeyed speech,\n But I have not attained the path of audition.\n Many a night have I passed in play,\n And never have learnt what is dalliance:\n Myriad aeons I held Him close to my heart,\n And yet no rest has reached that heart.\n How many a one tormented and passion-tost\n I have seen--without seeing!\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: For your heart's ease_\n _You have met with One who is nonpareil._\nCXXXVII.\n_Kavi:_ Hearken, O M\u0101dhava, what more can I say?\n Nought can I find to compare with love:\n Though the sun of the East should rise in the West,\n Yet would not love be far from the worthy,\n Or if I should write the stars of heaven on earth,\n Or if I could pour from my hands the water of all the sea.\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: O Shivasimha R\u0101i,_\n _To abandon the loving is ever unmeet._\nCXXXIII.\n_Kavi:_ Frenzied tresses encircling her radiant face--\n It is R\u0101hu desiring the orb of the moon:\n Flowers of her hair with her necklace entwined,\n As the Jamun\u0101 joins with the waters of Gang\u0101.\n The twain beyond speech are out of all reason,\n The loveling disports with most ardent passion:\n Eagerly fair-face kisses love-face,\n The bending moon drinks up the lotus.\n Her face is adorned with a bead of sweat--\n Madan has offered a pearl to the moon:\n Long is the necklace that hangs on her breasts--\n It is pouring its milk into golden jars.\n The chains on her hips are loudly jingling--\n Madan is sounding p\u00e6ans of conquest.\n _Vidy\u0101pati says: O amorous lady,_\n _Your skill in love's lore surpasses my speech!_\nEND.\nNOTES\nDRAMATIS PERSONAE\nELUCIDATIONS\nBIRDS, BEASTS AND FLOWERS\nILLUSTRATIONS\nTEXTS\nDRAMATIS PERSONAE\nThe poems voice the thoughts or represent the spoken words of R\u0101dh\u0101 and\nKrishna, of sakh\u012bs (R\u0101dh\u0101's friends) and d\u016btik\u0101s (messengers of R\u0101dh\u0101 or\nKrishna), and of the poet himself The greater part of the whole is\nproperly dialogue, but inasmuch as the 'audience' is generally silent,\nwe have only thought it necessary to make use of quotation marks where\nthe words of more than one speaker are reported in one and the same\nsong.\nThe following synonyms of Krishna are used by Vidy\u0101pati: Hari, M\u0101dhava,\nK\u0101na, K\u0101nu, K\u0101nta, Kan\u0101i, Mur\u0101ri, Murali, Banam\u0101li, Shy\u0101ma, Vallabha,\nGiridhara, Gokula-n\u0101tha, Nanda-kumara,--and the following of R\u0101dh\u0101:\nR\u0101dhik\u0101, R\u0101i.\nAs regards the use of capitals: 'Love' is so printed when the poet\nrefers to love as a Power (K\u0101madeva, Ana\u0149ga, Pa\u00f1ca-b\u0101n, Madan,\nManmatha), and 'Desire' is similarly printed with a capital when the\nreference is to desire as a Power (Rati, the wife of K\u0101madeva).\nIn the use of pronouns refering to Krishna, we have only occasionally\nprinted a capital 'He,'--for though He was God, he appeared to R\u0101dh\u0101\nas man. We have generally used the colloquial second person plural, in\nplace of the thee and thou of the original, since to reproduce the\noriginal would not convey the needed intimacy of the French\n'_tutoyer_': but in few cases it seemed better to adhere to the\nsingular.\nELUCIDATIONS\nKRISHNA P\u016aRBBAR\u0100GA\nThe First Passion of Krishna\nI\nR\u0101dh\u0101 first seen:\n_'She was a phantom of delight_\n_When first she gleamed upon my sight.'_\n2. 'Unstained,' literally 'without antelope.' Indian fancy sees in the\nmoon's markings, not a 'man in the moon,' but an antelope (or a hare).\nR\u0101dh\u0101 is flawless, and so lovelier than the moon itself.\n4. 'S\u016brm,' viz. _a\u00f1jana_, otherwise rendered as kohl or collyrium,\nwith which the lower eyelid is blackened.\n10, 11. A woman's throat is commonly compared to a conch. The Shambhu\n(Shiva-lingam) is the nipple (cf. Nos. XVI, LXVI). The poet suggests\nthat R\u0101dh\u0101's pearl necklace seems to be an ambrosial offering to Shiva,\nmade by K\u0101madeva, using the sacrificial vessel of R\u0101dh\u0101's conch-like\nthroat (cf No. LI, 12).\n12, 13. _'Hevene y tolde al his_\n _That o nyght were hire gest.'_\nII\nR\u0101dh\u0101 excels the sources of her charms in every quality, so that each is\nput to shame. Cf. _Prema S\u0101gara_, Ch. LXIII, and\n _'Straighter than cedar, brighter than glass;_\n _More fine in trip than foot of running roe . . ._\n _Fresher than poplar, smaller than my span._\n Shep. Tony (in 'England's Helicon').\n4. 'Olifant,'--the elephant is commonly regarded by those least\nfamiliar with him, as a clumsy animal, probably on account of his size\nand weight. For the eastern poet he symbolises strength, grace and\nsymmetry. The old form 'olifant' is therefore used here as if to restore\nhim to his true position by a slight suggestion of mystery.\n\"The soft and graceful gait of an Indian woman is likened to that of an\nelephant; and in the East, where a woman's garments permit freedom of\nmovement and sympathetic co-operation of the muscular system this is an\napt comparison. In the West the natural swing of the hips, only possible\nin conjunction with the free, lithe play of the muscles of the foot and\ntorso, is restricted and becomes jerky . . . The elephant has an exquisite\nsense of balance and most supple joints, and can even make obeisance with\nprofound dignity.\"\nF. H. Andrews, _Journal of Indian Art_, X, 52. See also Max\nMuller,_S.B.E._, Vol. XI, p. 46, note 2.\n11. To save the Worlds, Shiva drank up the poison that appeared at the\nchurning of the Ocean, whence his throat is stained blue. The poet\nsuggests that despair at the sight of R\u0101dh\u0101's beauty was the real cause\nthat Shiva drank.\nIII\n6. \"The _Khanjana_ (wagtail) eyes are characterised by their playful\ngaiety.\" (A. N. Tagore, _Some notes on Indian Artistic Anatomy_,\nCalcutta, 1914). The 'snakes' are the lines of collyrium drawn on each\nlower-lid.\n8. _Lom\u0101-lat\u0101-b\u0101li_, lit. 'down-vine-wreath,' here compared to a half\nsuffocated snake, to suggest the depth of R\u0101dh\u0101's navel. Garu\u1e0da is the\nenemy of all snakes. The _lom\u0101-lat\u0101-b\u0101li_ is often indicated in Orissan\nsculpture (e.g. _Vi\u015bvakarma_ LV) by a slight furrow extending upwards\nfrom the navel. See also LI, 17.\n12. The Indian Eros is armed with five arrows, from which he sometimes\ntakes the name Five Arrows (cf. No. CXX). Here it is suggested that Love\nwith Three Arrows slew the Three Worlds, and gave the two others to\nR\u0101dh\u0101's eyes, that the slain might be slain again.\nThe Three Worlds, constantly alluded to are _Svarga_, _Mata_ and\n_Patal_,--Heaven, Earth and Underworld.\n17. The well of love: by 'maidens about the village well,' we can hardly\ndoubt that the poet intends to signify the souls of men, attracted to\nthe source of Eternal Life.\n18, 19. The names of the poet's patron and his queen are constantly\nintroduced in the refrains.\nIV\n _'Oh woe is me, that ever I did see_\n _The beauty that did me bewitch.''--_\nVI\n1. 'Cowdust-time,' viz. evening, when the cows are driven home: a\nfavourite subject of Pah\u0101r\u0129 painters.\n5. _'Tis not the linen shows so fair_\n _Her skin shines through and makes it bright.'--_\n8. 'Lord of the Five Gaurs'--the Panjab, K\u0101noja, Bengal, Darbhang\u0101,\nOriss\u0101. The sway of the Princes of Gaur was of course far less extended\nthan this in Vidy\u0101pati's day. The term is complimentary: see Dinesh\nChandra Sen, Bengali Language and Literature, p. 290.\nVII\n1. 'Milk-white,' a free rendering of '_nanu\u00f1ga-badan\u012b_': _nanu\u00f1ga_,\nmodern _nan\u012b_, is a preparation of milk, not exactly curd.\n _'Whiter far than Moorish milk.'_\n Richard Braithwait.\nIX\n7. '_Cakrav\u0101kas_,' birds (_Anas casarca_), of which the pairs are said\nto separate at night, for example, to sleep on opposite sides of a\nriver.\nX\nThis is one of Vidy\u0101pati's most renowned poems, and a favourite subject\nof R\u0101jput painters.\nXI\n1. The bank of the Jamun\u0101, or the steps of a bathing gh\u0101t. Jamun\u0101 bank\nin Vaishnava literature stands for this world regarded as the constant\nmeeting place of R\u0101dh\u0101 and Krishna where amidst the affairs of daily\nlife the soul is arrested and beguiled to her (worldly) undoing.\n12. It is a popular tradition that the partridge (_cakora_) is in love\nwith the moon and lives on the moon's rays. (Cf. XXV, 5).\nXII\n7. A favourite motif of Indian poets. When the day lotus closes at dusk,\nthe thoughtless bee intent on honey is made a prisoner.\nXIV\n2. R\u0101dh\u0101's feet do not touch the ground, but are upborne by lotus\nflowers that spring up beneath them. Thus R\u0101dh\u0101 is very tenderly\nrepresented as divine. Every footfall finds a lotus-footstool,--which\nis a constant convention of Buddhist and Hind\u016b art. The lightness of her\nstep is also suggested.\n8. Called 'water-lily' eyes \"for the calm repose of their drooping\nlids.\" (Tagore, loc. cit.).\nR\u0100DH\u0100 BAYAHSANDI\nThe Growing-up of R\u0101dh\u0101\nXVI\n3. Her eyes are elongated just when she grows up: or possibly the poet\nmeans that she then first artificially extends their length with a line\nof collyrium.\n14. 'Mahesha,' i.e. a Shiva-lingam, Cf I, 11, and LXVI, 10.\nXVII\n1, 2. Sometimes she flashes sidelong glances, sometimes she veils her\nface.\nXIX\n8. _'And vital feelings of delight_\n _Shall rear her form to stately height._\n _Her virgin bosom swell.'_\n9, 10. The attraction of music for deer is a favourite motif of R\u0101jput\npaintings, particularly in the representation of certain r\u0101gi\u1e47\u012bs (Tor\u012b,\netc),--see Coomaraswamy, '_Arts and Crafts of India and Ceylon_,' fig.\n78. In another poem Vidy\u0101pati has:\n For when she hears love's language spoken,\n She turns away her eyes,--and lends her ears.\nR\u0100DH\u0100 P\u016aRBBAR\u0100GA\nThe First Passion of R\u0101dh\u0101\nXXI\n4, Lit. 'That he wears a yellow garment is the lightning's streak.'\n6. The peacock plume, Krishna's constant headdress, beside his\nmoon-face.\nXXIII\n3, 7. 'Strings of moons,' i.e. toe-nails and finger-nails.\n5. The yellow dhoti round his legs, the 'tam\u0101l-shafts.'\n8-12. Krishna's lips, nose, eyes and hair.\nXXIV\nThe flute of Krishna is the call of the Infinite, 'the sound of the\ncamel-bell,' the 'sword' of 'I come to bring not peace, but a sword.'\n3. Lit. 'Suddenly (or forcibly) it takes its seat in my ears,' cf.\n _'Every moment the voice of Love is coming from right and left.'_\n11. _'When the strings of thy robe are loosed by the intoxication of\nlove.'_\nSAKH\u012a-SHIKSH\u0100-BACAN\u0100DI\nThe Counsel of Girl-friends (Sakh\u012bs)\nXXX\n'Artless,'--_mugadhini_. Svak\u012bya heroines are classified according to\ntheir experience, as _mugdh\u0101_, inexperienced, _madhy\u0101_, more\nexperienced, and _pragalbh\u0101_, fully mistress of love's art (e.g.\nRudra\u1e6da, _K\u0101vy\u0101la\u1e45kara_, XII, 17: _S\u0101hityadarpa\u1e47a_, 97,98, _Da\u015bar\u016bpa_\n11,25). _Mugadhini_ has also the signification of 'fond,' 'lovesick,'\nas in XXII, 2 (_mugadha n\u0101r\u012b_).\nPRATHAMA MILNA\nFirst Meetings\nXXXIII\n _'A honey-comb and a honey-fower_\n _And the bee shall have his hour.'_\nXXXV\n4. The day-lotus closes and fades at night and in the moon's rays; R\u0101dh\u0101\nis the lotus, Krishna the moon, as also in XLII, 8.\nXXXVI\n7-10. _'Sweet reward for sharpest pain.'_\n12. 'Artless 'or 'innocent,'--_mugadhini_, as in XXX, 1 and again in\nXXXVII, 10.\nXXXVIII\n12. _Lit._ Happy is she that can look on him unmoved.\nXXXIX\n2. R\u0101dh\u0101 knows and fears that she will yield to Krishna's wooing.\n14. R\u0101hu, demon that swallows the moon at each eclipse. Cf. CXX, 10 and\nCXXIII, 3.\nXL\nMark the contrast between Krishna's memories of the night, and R\u0101dh\u0101's.\nXLII\n12. The Indian woman's purse is a knot tied in her _s\u0101r\u012b_. The suggestion\nis that of the uselessness of tying up the treasure which the thief has\nalready seen.\nXLV\n3. C\u0101n\u016bra, a wrestler in the service of Ka\u1e45s, slain by Krishna (CF _Prema\nS\u0101gara_, Chs. XLIV, XLV).\nXLVI\n5. Cf. The following _doh\u0101_, the text of a Pah\u0101r\u012b drawing:\n _'Jyo\u1e45 jyo\u1e45 parasai L\u0101la tana tyo\u1e45 tyo\u1e45 r\u0101khata g\u014d, \u0113_\n _Navala b\u0101la \u1e0dara L\u0101la-kai indabadhu-s\u012b h\u016b, \u0113_\n 'The more that L\u0101la touches her body, the more she curls up her body,\n The tender girl, afraid of L\u0101la, becomes, as it were, a woodlouse!'\nXLVII\n4. The Pairs of Opposites, as also in No. LXII.\nXLVIII\n2. 'A wife,'--the original signifies 'woman' or 'wife.' In any case, the\nreader will observe (Nos. LXXX, LXXXVI and CXVII) that Vidy\u0101pati writes\nof R\u0101dh\u0101 as a _svak\u012bya_ heroine, whereas a majority of Vaishnava\nwriters further emphasize the conflict between Love and Duty by making\nher _parak\u012bya_, the wife of another. But as R\u0101dh\u0101's was at best a\nG\u0101ndharva marriage (according to Vidy\u0101pati's indications), ratified at\nfirst only by mutual consent (as in the case of Shakuntal\u0101), and\nwillingly accepted by the family, we should perhaps call her _an\u016bdha_\n(unmarried) rather than _svak\u012bya_ (_V\u0101gbha\u1e6d\u0101la\u1e45k\u0101ra_, V, 12,13). It is\nthe yielding before or without marriage which R\u0101dh\u0101 often speaks of as\nher shame and sin, and for which she is blamed by her family. None the\nless, much of what is here related is quite true to everyday Indian\nlife, where courtship normally follows marriage, and public flirtation\nis always considered disgraceful.\nABHIS\u0100RA\n(R\u0101dh\u0101's) Going-forth (to visit Krishna)\nThe Abhis\u0101rik\u0101 heroine is one who goes from her home to visit her\nbelov\u00e8d, careless of danger or shame. The Abhis\u0101rik\u0101 is a favourite\nsubject of Pahari painters (see Coomaraswamy, '_Journal of Indian Art_,\nOctober, 1914). An English example in John Davidson's 'A Ballad of a\nNun.'\nLIV\n5-8. _'Teeth of pearl, the double guard_\n _To speech, whence music still is heard.'_\nVASANTA LILA\nDalliance in Spring\nLVI\nCf. the extract from K\u0101l\u012b Krishna Dasa's _K\u0101mini Kum\u0101ra_, translated in\nDinesh Chandra Sen's _Bengali Language and Literature_, p. 688.\n8. _Pa\u00f1cam_--the dominant. Also in CV, 2. The pitch of each of the seven\nnotes \"was originally determined by the rishis of the forest from the\nsounds of various Birds and Animals uttered at particular seasons and\ntimes. . . P\u0101 is the note sounded by the Kokila, the Indian nightingale,\nat springtime, when after a silence of six months it hails the brightest\nperiod of the year and tastes the first sprouts of the new season with\nan ebullition of joy\"--Chinnaswami Mudaliyar, _Oriental Music_.\n10. 'Twice-born,' epithet equally of Br\u0101hmans and birds. The sense is\nthat in this Nature-festival the birds performed the 'the most solempne\nservise' of the officiating priests.\nLVII\n14. 'For ever and for ever'--since the Krishna L\u012bl\u0101 is eternal.\nLIX\n2. _R\u0101sa_, the circular dance of Krishna with the _gop\u012bs_ (herd-girls),\nwherein his form was multiplied and became many; thus described in the\n_Prema S\u0101gara_, and often represented in R\u0101jput drawings, and\nconstantly acted in the _R\u0101s-l\u012bl\u0101_--\n _'Two and two the gop\u012bs held hands and between each pair was\n Hari their friend. . ._\n _Gopi and Nanda-kumara alternate, a round ring of lightnings\n and heavy clouds,_\n _The fair Braj girls and the dusky Krishnas, like to a gold\n and sapphire necklace._\nThe _R\u0101s Ma\u1e47\u1e0dala_ thus described is the exact equivalent of the\n'General Dance' to which (in a well-known medi\u00e6val carol, 'To-morrow\nwill be my Dancing Day') Christ invites the souls of men,--for the words\nof the carol see G. R. S. Mead, in 'The Quest,' October, 1910.\n8. _Vasanta R\u0101g_.\n9. Cf. _Indian Drawings_, II, PI. 2.\nM\u0100NA\nWilfulness\nThis affection of a heroine is something compound of pride, disdain,\noffense and coldness: a hardening of heart (cf. _h\u1e5bdaya-granthih_). The\nsoul's contraction though the voice of God is heard,--she will not open\nher doors.\nLXII\n3. The Pairs of Opposites, cf. No. XLVII, 4.\nLXIII\nThis is most typical Vaishnava poetry, in one breath blaming Krishna's\nwiles and proclaiming Him One without second. The note of blame is\nspecially characteristic. In the _Prema S\u0101gara_:\n _'He forsakes goodness; He accepts badness: deceit is pleasing\nIn Tagore's King of the Dark Chamber:\n _'Well, I tell you, your King's behaviour is--mean, brutal,\n shameful!'_\nIn the _Krishna_ of 'A.E.'\n _'I saw the King pass lightly from the beauty that he had betrayed._\n _I saw him pass from love to love; and yet the pure, allowed\n _To be the purest of the pure, thrice holy, stainless, without\n6. The golden jar is Krishna's body.\n12, 13. All love is one, though you may reject it,--sacred or profane:\n _'Cowl of the monk and bowl of wine, how shall the twain by\n _Yet for the love I bear to thee, these to unite I dare for thee.'_\n Hafiz (translated by Walter Leaf).\nVidy\u0101pati might have written (since Vaishnavas never used the Suf\u012b\nsymbol of wine), 'Lust of the flesh and love of Thee . . . these to\nunite I dare for Thee.'\nLXV\n7-9. R\u0101dh\u0101 ignores a message from Krishna, sent through the priestess of\na Sun-shrine, to meet him at the temple.\nLXVI\n10, II. The nipple with its areola, compared to a Shiva-lingam with the\ndigit of the moon that Shiva wears in his hair. Cf. XVI, 10, 11.\nLXVII\n6. Lakshm\u012b, consort of Vishnu and goddess of beauty and fortune.\nLXIX\n8, 9. This message implies, by the lock of hair that he would leave the\nworld as a shaven monk if R\u0101dh\u0101 would not yield. Flowers and p\u0101n (betel)\nare an 'olive-branch.' A blade of grass is sometimes held in the mouth\nto swear by, and here means sincerity.\nLXX\n6. The sandal is the best of trees, the sh\u0101lm\u0101l the worst.\nLXXI\n10. Evidently a popular proverb--cf. 'The leopard cannot change its\nspots.'\nLXXII\n3. Here the night-lily closing at dawn.\nLXXIII\n3. '_Jap-tap_: prayers, personal office, daily ritual,--(_japa_ or\nofferings of water, _tapas_ or 'rule').\n8. The moon is brother to the poison, since both were produced at the\nChurning of the Ocean: a thief because he stole T\u0101r\u0101, the wife of\nBrihaspati: vomited (unclean) because he escapes from R\u0101hu's jaws at\neach eclipse; cruel because his rays are scorching fires to divided\nlovers; slayer of lilies, because the day-lotus wilts at night; yet in\nspite of these enormities, some merit makes him bright.\n13. _Saba gu\u1e47a mula amula_: A thought akin to that of LXIII.\nLXXIV\nR\u0101dh\u0101 is here the typical Kha\u1e47\u1e0dit\u0101 N\u0101yik\u0101 who reproaches her lover when\nhe returns in the morning and has spent the night with some other flame.\n6. _'He takes another girl on his knee_\n _And tells her what he dosen't tell me.'_\nLXXV\n8. Fickle, like the 'rootless' of LXXIII, 13. _Lit._ 'His heart is the\nessence of lightning.'\n9-12. Here the thought approaches the prevailing motif of the _G\u012bt\u0101\nGovinda_, where R\u0101dh\u0101 is the higher self of man, and Krishna the self\nentangled in the world of sensation.\n18. _Rasa bujha'i rasamanta_: a pregnant epigram, valid equally in love\nand art.\nM\u0100N\u0100NTE MILNA\nReunion after Wilfulness\nLXXVI\n4. 'Might not bend,' _lit_. 'was like a _stambha_,' a monumental\npillar.\nLXXIX\nThe lovers are mixed like milk and water.\nLXXX\n2. 'Spell,'--_s\u0101dhan\u0101_.\n8. Inasmuch as being a religious mendicant, he could not be refused.\nLXXXI\n4. _Ga\u00f1ja_-seeds (_Abrus precatorius_), used by jewellers as weights.\n8, 10. R\u0101dh\u0101 complains that she has cast her pearls before a monkey; but\nthe poet retorts by the insinuation that R\u0101dh\u0101 has given Krishna betel\nfrom her own mouth (as lovers do) and says that for betel to issue from\na monkey's mouth is at least as strange as to see a necklace of pearls\non a monkey's neck.\nLXXXII\n6. _'Phillis' closed eyes attracts you her to kiss,'_\n _'She lay still and would not wake,'_\n Campion and Rosseter's Book of Airs, 1601.\n9, 10. Such exchange of gear, when it amounts to a complete disguise of\nlover as belov\u00e8d, belov\u00e8d as lover, is known as _L\u012bl\u0101-h\u0101va_. A familiar\nEnglish parallel is the London coster lovers' habit of exchanging hats,\nwhen out for dalliance on Hampstead Heath; here also the original or\nsub-conscious motif is a sense of indentity.\n _R\u0101dh\u0101 Hari Hari R\u0101dh\u0101-ke bani-\u0101e sanketa--_\nThe station of R\u0101dh\u0101 becoming Hari and Hari R\u0101dh\u0101: is a not infrequent\nsubject of Pah\u0101r\u012b paintings.\nLXXXIII\n10, Ratipati, the Lord of Rati, Madan, Love.\n15. For this gesture, see 'Journal of Indian Art,' No. 128, fig. 3.\nLXXXIV\n6. i.e. 'I could have sunk into the earth with shame.'\n8. The poet overlooks that no snow settles on the southern hills.\nLXXXV\n2. The stain: see note to XLVIII, 2.\n6. Yaduv\u012bra, Hero of the Yadus, Krishna.\n14. The poet insinuates that R\u0101dh\u0101 could have escaped from Krishna's\ngaze had she wished; just as the K\u0101shm\u012br\u012b pa\u1e47\u1e0dit\u0101n\u012bs bathing naked, slip\nfrom the river-bank into the water while the traveller's boat is\npassing.\nLXXXVI\n1. Mother-in-law: see note to XLVIII.\nEven as a wife, such dalliance before a mother-in-law would be contrary\nto all decorum; thus the mother-in-law represents, as it were, the cares\nof this world, whereby the soul is prevented from yielding herself,--and\nhence Vidy\u0101pati's disappointment.\nLXXXVII\n2. Skirt, _ghagari_, not now a separate garment, but that part of the\n_s\u0101r\u012b_ which forms a skirt. But in Vidy\u0101pati's day the costume of\nBeng\u0101l\u012b women seems to have been that of Western Hindustan (skirt,\nbodice and veil), familiar in R\u0101jput paintings. In this case the\n_n\u012bb\u012bbandha_ (see Introduction p. 11), is actually the skirt-string,\nand the translation as 'zone' or 'girdle' is not inappropriate, nor that\nof _a\u00f1cala_ as 'wimple' or 'veil.'\nLXXXVIII\n8. Like the 'neither within or without' of B\u1e5bhad\u0101ra\u1e47yaka Upanishad, IV,\n3, 33: 'beyond the striving winds of love and hate'--Wilfrid Wilson\nGibson.\nLXXXIX\n10. With such a tempest, as when Jove of old\n Fell down on Dan\u00e4e in a storm of gold--\nXC\n4. _Tilka_, the vermilion brow-spot.\n7. Hari-Hara, God as equally Vishnu and Shiva: see _Prema S\u0101gara_, Ch.\nLXXXIX, also Havell, _Indian Sculpture and Painting_, PI. XXVI.\n14. Vidy\u0101pati's Master: Krishna.\nXCII\nR\u0101dh\u0101 presumptuously claims for herself alone the love that is given to\nall that seek it. This song would be more appropriately included under\nthe heading 'M\u0101na.'\n3. _Kadamba_, (_Anthocepalus cadamba_, Mig.) the tree most associated\nwith Krishna, beneath which he stands and plays his flute and dallies\nwith the milk-maids.\nXCIII\nR\u0101dh\u0101 is here the typical Abhisandhit\u0101 N\u0101yik\u0101 \"who repulses her lover\njust when he seeks to soften her pride, and suffers double grief when he\nis no longer beside her\" (Ke\u015bava D\u0101sa).\n\u0100KSHEPA ANUYOGA O VIRAHA\nReproaches, Lack and Longing\nThe departure of Krishna to Mathur\u0101 is God forsaking the soul, or\nseeming to do so; the complaint of R\u0101dh\u0101 is \"Why hast thou forsaken me?\"\nXCV\n6, Moving her heart to love, though love be hopeless.\n7. Beauty-spots, _kuca-ku\u1e45kuma_, patterns drawn on her breasts with\nsandal-paste: cf. _G\u012bt\u0101 Govinda_ XII, 18, 'Draw leafy patterns on my\nbreasts.'\nXCVII\nThis conceit is the subject of beautiful songs by many poets, including\nJ\u0101yadeva and R\u0101mbasu.\nThe Bodiless (Ana\u1e45ga) is K\u0101madeva, Love: on behalf of Um\u0101 he endeavoured\nto rouse Shiva from his rapt meditation, and Shiva in wrath destroyed\nhis body with a glance from his third eye.\nR\u0101dh\u0101 feigns to think that Love has mistaken her for Shiva, and explains\nin detail that she is but a human maiden. Amongst the attributes of\nShiva are the Ganges in his matted locks, and crescent moon, a third\neye, the stain of poison in his throat (see No. II, 11), and a serpent\ncoiling about it, a tiger-skin, a skull, and ashes smeared on his body;\nin place of these R\u0101dh\u0101 has flowing tresses, a pearl ornament, a\nbrow-spot, a touch of musk, a pearl necklace, a dark silk sari, a lotus,\nand her body is dusted with sandal paste. The lotus of dalliance\n(_kelika kamala_) is a real or artificial lotus flower held in the hand\nas a plaything: for an illustration see _Indian Drawings_ II, PL IX, 1.\nXCVIII\nThis is one of the most obviously mystical of Vidy\u0101pati's songs:\n _'I am he whom I love, and he whom I love is I.'_\nCf. the exclamation _\u015aivoham_, 'Shiva is myself (_sohambh\u0101va_, He\nbeing I); and the injunction _Devo bh\u016btva, devam yajet_, 'By becoming\nGod, worship Him!' also the half-_doh\u0101_ quoted in the note to LXXXII, 9,\ni o.\n3. _O nija bh\u0101va svabh\u0101va hi bichurala_, Forgetting her own _bh\u0101va_\nand _svabh\u0101va_, feelings and character, will and self-consciousness.\n _'At last I have found myself.'_\n _'Whoso has not escaped from will, no will has he.'_\nCII\n10. _Piu, piu_: that is to say, 'Belov\u00e8d, Belov\u00e8d.'\nCIV\n3. Even from a crow's mouth--the crow is the chief omen and messenger,\nof a lover's return. Cf. No. CXXIII, and also _Journal of Indian Art_,\nNo. 128, p. 103 and figure 12.\nCV-CVI\nThese are clearly related to reverdies of the folk, such as the K\u0101shm\u012br\u012b\nsongs recorded in Ratan Dev\u012b's _Thirty Indian Songs_. It is probable\nthat the more one could learn of contemporary folk-song, the more\napparent would be Vidy\u0101pati's dependence on the folk-tradition. These\npopular motifs are interwoven throughout with the familiar similes of\nthe classic literature. Perhaps we ought to think of Vidy\u0101pati as a sort\nof mystic Burns.\nCVII\n3. 'House': the house, in Vidy\u0101pati's songs refers sometimes to the\nactual home of R\u0101dh\u0101's parents, or her own home, and sometimes as here,\nto the 'house of love,'--the 'palace' of Shamsi Tabr\u012bz (Nicholson\nXXXVIII).\nCVIII\n2. 'Cross the sea': see note to CXXXI.\nCX\nR\u0101dh\u0101 is here the typical Proshita-preyas\u012b 'whose husband has gone\nabroad, appointing a time of return' (Ke\u015bava D\u0101sa).\nCXI\nThe poet says that R\u0101dh\u0101 should have thought _before_ she drank. To\ntake water from a man of low caste is to 'lose caste'--but it is too\nlate to think of this after the water is already drunk.\nCXII\nThe idea of reproach is essential to the drama of the soul, and a\nleading motif of the greater part of R\u0101dh\u0101-Krishna literature:\n_'Folk, family, house and husband are abandoned, the reproach of the\nworld rejected.'_\nCompare:\n _'Blessed are ye when men shall revile and persecute you for My\nand likewise:\n _'Let every reproach that honour disdains and avoids be mine.'_\n _'--Cast shame and pride away,_\n _Let honour gild the world's eventless day,_\n _Shrink not from change and shudder not at crime,_\n _Leave lies to rattle in the sieve of Time!_\n _Then whatsoe'er your workday gear shall stain,_\n _Of me a wedding garment shall ye gain!'_\nThis point is to be emphasized: for to understand the necessity and\nsignifiance of reproach, is to comprehend how it was not merely possible\nbut inevitable that in a society where the strictest possible conception\nof woman's honour prevails, the self-surrender of R\u0101dh\u0101 should be\nregarded as the natural symbol of the soul's self-gift to God.\nCXIV\n16. Kali age: the fourth or evil age in which we now live, when the\nprevailing motive is self-interest; it is what Blake calls _Tax_ or\n_Empire_.\nCXV\nThis song is still to be heard in Bengal, to the R\u0101gi\u1e47i Bhairav\u012b.\n4. It is a custom of many bhaktas to print the name or symbol of Vishnu\non forehead, breast and arms. The custom of tattooing the name of the\nBelov\u00e8d upon the body is world-wide.\n5. Lalit\u0101: R\u0101dh\u0101's dearest sakh\u012b. It is customary amongst Vaishnavas to\nrecite the name of Krishna in the ears of the dying.\n7. The two customary means of disposing of the dead.\n8. Tam\u0101la, a tree with dark glaucous leaves, constantly compared to\nKrishna for its colour.\nCXVII\n13. The scarlet line, drawn along the parting of the hair by married\nwomen whose husbands are still living; if Krishna will not return, R\u0101dh\u0101\nwill adopt the rule of a widow.\nCXVIII\nReferring to the circumstances of XCIV.\nCXIX\nContains verses from two songs printed separately in the original.\nCXXI\n8. Marks of complete indifference to propriety and elegance.\n12. And is thus in truth 'broken and contrite,' acceptable to God.\nCXXII\n4-7. All objects normally cool, are scorching hot to R\u0101dh\u0101, racked as\nshe is by the fire of love. For the lotus-leaves, see the picture facing\nCXXIII\n1. For the sight of the moon, so pleasant to united lovers, increases\nher pain.\n3. A sort of black magic; R\u0101dh\u0101 invokes R\u0101hu to eclipse the moon.\n11. _Lit._ 'with ten nails': more black magic, the snakes are to\nswallow up the vexing southern breeze.\n14, 15. The koil, whose calling accentuates the suffering of divided\nlovers: crows, their messengers, and omens of reunion. Cf. No. CIV, 3.\nCXXIV\n11. Using the necklace as a rosary.\nContains verses from two songs printed separately in the original.\nCXXV\nBabe--_b\u0101la_, a girl under 16.\nCXXV\n3. Garland-offering--hung on the idol's neck when it is new, and cast\naway the next day.\nCXXVI\n10, II. We ought perhaps to understand by this the loneliness of God in\nheaven, lacking the love of men.\nPUNARMILNA O RASODG\u0100RA.\nReunion and the Flow of Nectar.\nCXXVII\n6. R\u0101dh\u0101 has learnt at last that service is self-realisation and\nself-expression.\nCXXXI\nThe 'boat on the river' goes back to the old Buddhist idea of a raft or\nboat wherein to cross the sams\u0101ra, the sea of this world, to reach the\nfurther shore; just as in the carol 'Come over the burn, Besse,'\n _'The burne is this world blind.'_\nCXXXI\nR\u0101dh\u0101 feels that Krishna, whom she had thought her equal, is indeed\nbeyond her ken; but the poet answers, 'That art thou,' proclaiming their\nUnity.\n7. 'I know the beings of the past, the present and the future, O Arjuna:\nbut no one knoweth Me.'--_Bhagavad G\u012bt\u0101_ VII, 26.\nCXXXVI\nLike the last, this throws a light upon the whole wreath of songs; for\nthe soul perceives that she has had ears to hear and eyes to see ever\nsince she came to birth, yet she has neither heard nor seen; and now she\ncannot have enough of hearing and seeing.\n13. _Lit._ 'I have known--and seen not one.'\nCXXXVIII\nThe poet leaves the lovers in each other's arms.\nBIRDS, FLOWERS AND TREES.\nThe following birds, flowers and trees are mentioned in the text in the\nconnection indicated:\nBIRDS.\n_C\u0101taka:_ a kind of cuckoo, perhaps _Luculus melanoleucus_,--said to\ndrink only drops of water as they fall from the clouds.\n_Cakrav\u0101ka:_ _Anas casarca_,--pairs are said to sleep apart at night.\nCrow: _k\u0101ka, b\u0101yasa, Corvus splendens_,--messenger of separated\nlovers: also (LXXIII) an eater of leavings.\n_Garu\u1e0da:_ a mythical bird, usually represented with a parrot's head and\npartly human body: the vehicle of Vishnu and the enemy of all serpents.\n_Koil_ or _kokila_: _parab\u1e5btaka_, Indian cuckoo, _Eudynamys\nhonorata_,--its cry is _kuhu, kuhu_, delightful to united, and\ndistressing to divided, lovers. Its 'pancam-note' is the 'dominant' of\nNature's chorus.\nParrot: _k\u012bra_,--\"Parrot noses are invariably associated with heroes\nand great men, while, among female figures they are to be seen only in\nimages of Sakti.\" (A. N. Tagore, _loc. cit._).\nPartridge: _cakora_, _Perdrix rufa_,--said to feed on the rays of the\nmoon.\n'Peewit': _p\u0101pih\u0101_, the hawk-cuckoo, Hieroccyx varius,--its cry is\n_piu, piu_, 'Beloved, Beloved.'\nPeacock: _may\u016bra_, _Pavo cristatus_,--delights in rain.\nWagtail: _kha\u00f1jana_, _Montacilla alba_,--restless movement.\nFLOWERS AND TREES.\n_Ashoka_: _Jonesia asoka_,--herald of Spring.\n_Bandh\u016bka_: _Pentapetes ph\u0153nicia_ (or _Leucas linifolia?_)\nBetel: _p\u0101n, t\u0101mb\u016bla, Piper betle_,--leaves used for chewing.\n_Bimba_: _Momordica monadelpha_ (or _coccinia?_),--bright red fruit.\n_Ga\u00f1ja_: _Abrus precatorius_, seeds used as jeweller's weights.\nHoney-apple: _bel, shr\u0129phala_, 'Bengal quince,' _Aegle\nmarmelos_,--large round fruit.\nJasmine: several varieties are mentioned, as _cameli_, Arabian jasmine\n_J. sambac_; _campak_, _Michelia champaka_; _m\u0101lat\u012b_, clove-scented\njasmine, _Aganosma caryophyllata_ (or perhaps _J. grandiflorum_);\n_kunda_, Indian jasmine, _J. pubescens_,--all mentioned for their\nscent.\nJujube: _badar\u012b_, _Zizyphus jujuba_,--small round fruits.\n_Kadamba_: _Anthocephalus cadamba_,--the haunt of Krishna.\n_Keshara_: safflower, _Crocus sativa_,--a herald of Spring.\n_Kimshuk_: _Butea frondosa_,--tree with beautiful flowers, a herald of\nSpring.\n_Labanga_-vine: _laba\u1e45ga-lat\u0101_, _Limonia scandens_,--a herald of\nSpring.\nLotus and water-lily: many varieties are mentioned, as _aravinda_, and\n_kamala_ which are day-flowering, and _kubalaya_ and _kumudini_,\nwhich flower at night. We have used the names 'lotus' and 'water-lily'\nindifferently for all varieties.\n_M\u0101dhavi_: _Gaertnera racemosa_,--herald of Spring.\nMango: _Mangifera indica_,--tender shoots and herald of Spring.\nOrange: _nara\u1e45ga, Citrus aurantum_,--round fruits.\n_P\u0101tal_: trumpet-flower, _Bignonia suaveolens_,--herald of Spring.\n_P\u012btal_: a yellow flower not identified.\nPlantain: _ker\u0101_, _Musa paradisaica_,--smooth straight stem.\nPomegranate, granate: _d\u0101\u1e5bima, Punica granatum_,--white smooth seeds.\n_Sh\u0101lmal\u012b_: silk-cotton tree, _Salmaria malabarica_,--the thorns are\nused in the tortures of hell.\nSandal: _candana, Santalum album_,--which affords a fragrant powder\nfor the body, much appreciated, and hence stands for the best of\nanything.\nScrew-pine: _ketak\u012b, Pandanus odoratissimus_,--fragrance.\n_Shir\u012bsh_: _Acacia sirissa_,--tenderness.\n_Tam\u0101l_: _Garcinia zanthochymus_,--straight stem, dark leaves (the\ncolour of Krishna).\n_T\u0101la_: palmyra, _Borassus flabelliformis_,--round fruits.\nILLUSTRATIONS.\n(Transcriber's note: The page images used to prepare this text did not\ninclude the illustrations).\nOne and the same lyrical tradition is the common inheritance of all\nHindustan; it finds expression now in poetry, now in music, and now in\npainting. Hence it is that the schools of painting, though they are\nlocal, illustrate all the ideas of the Vaishnava poets as directly as\nthe songs themselves. Amongst Rajput paintings it would perhaps be\npossible to find an appropriate illustration to every line of Vidy\u0101pati,\nor of any other Vaishnava singer; not that Vidy\u0101pati was known to the\nwestern painters, but their and his experience was the same. Just as the\nVaishnava songs are word-painted miniatures, rather than narative, so\nwith the R\u0101jasth\u0101n\u012b and still more with the Pah\u0101r\u012b Rajput paintings;\nthese are likewise musical delineations of brief moments of the soul's\nhistory. It is hoped that the reproductions given here will help to\nactualise the meaning of Vidy\u0101pati's words, for those who are unfamiliar\nwith the Vaishnava tradition.\nThe key to each picture is given in the quoted text, to which the\nfollowing notes are supplementary:\nFacing page 3: Jaipur painting of the 18th century, very brilliant in\nsunset colourings, representing a girl returning from a Shaiva shrine.\nThe original in the collection of Mr. N. Blount, Calcutta.\nFacing page 19: A Pah\u0101r\u012b (K\u0101ngr\u0101) painting of the early XIXth century,\nrepresenting a girl bathing.\nThe original in the collection of Dr. Ananda Coomaraswamy.\nFacing page 27: A Pah\u0101r\u012b (K\u0101ngr\u0101?) painting, of the earlier part of the\nXVIIIth century, representing Krishna with his flute, beneath a\n_kadamba_ tree, and beside him are two milk-maids with offerings of\ncurd and betel.\nThe original in the collection of Dr. Ananda Coomaraswamy.\nFacing page 33: This is the only one of our eleven illustrations which\nis not absolutely appropriate to the text. It is taken from an MS of\nKe\u015bava D\u0101sa's _Rasikapriy\u0101_, and represents the 'Clandestine Meeting'\n(_Pracchanna samyoga_). It is, however, Mughal in style,\nnotwithstanding its Hind\u016b subject; and while in a general way it\nillustrates the quoted text, its sentiment is more secular and\nrealistic, and a further objection appears in the fact that the text\nimplies a night and indoor environment.\nThe original in the collection of Dr. Ananda Coomaraswamy.\nFacing page 43: A Pah\u0101r\u012b (K\u0101ngr\u0101) painting of the late XVIIIth century,\nrepresenting a _dutik\u0101_ leading R\u0101dh\u0101 (or any heroine) across a starlit\ncourtyard to her lover's house.\nOriginal in the collection of Babu Gogonendronath Tagore.\nFacing page 63: A Pah\u0101r\u012b (Jammu district) painting of the XVIIth or\nXVIIIth century, representing an Abhis\u0101rik\u0101. Part of a picture, the\nwhole of which is given in 'The Journal of Indian Art,' No. 128, figure\nOriginal in the collection of Dr. Ananda Coomaraswamy.\nFacing page 71: A Pah\u0101r\u012b (K\u0101ngr\u0101) painting of the late XVIIIth century\nrepresenting Krishna and R\u0101dh\u0101 seated on a bed of plaintain leaves in a\nflowery grove.\nOriginal in the collection of Dr. Ananda Coomaraswamy.\nFacing page 77: A Pah\u0101r\u012b (K\u0101ngr\u0101) painting of the early XIXth century\nrepresenting the M\u0101nini denying Krishna's prayers.\nOriginal in the collection of Dr. Ananda Coomaraswamy.\nFacing page 95: A Pah\u0101r\u012b (K\u0101ngr\u0101) painting of the early XIXth century\nrepresenting a woman cooking.\nOriginal in the collection of Dr. Ananda Coomaraswamy.\nFacing page 115: Part of a Pah\u0101r\u012b (Jammu district) painting representing\nR\u0101dh\u0101 (or any heroine) suffering from the pangs of _viraha_. Lotus\nleaves are spread on the bed, one sakh\u012b is fanning the patient, and\nanother brings her water in a jade cup; yet her body is scorched as\nthough by fire.\nOriginal in the collection of Dr. Ananda Coomaraswamy.\nFacing page 151: Part of a Pah\u0101r\u012b (K\u0101ngr\u0101) painting of late XVIIIth\ncentury, representing the V\u0101sakas\u0101yya N\u0101yika, she who welcomes her\nbeloved on his return from abroad. For the whole picture see 'Journal of\nIndian Art,' No. 128, figure 13.\nOriginal in the collection of Dr. Ananda Coomaraswamy.\nThe dates suggested are only approximate. Most of the reproductions are a\nlittle smaller than the originals.\nTEXTS.\nX\n \u0100ju majhu \u0301subha dina bhel\u0101!\n Kamin\u012b pekhalu sin\u0101naka bel\u0101,\n Cikura galaye jala dh\u0101ra,--\n Meha barikhe janu motima h\u0101ra!\n Badana mochala paracura,\n Maji dhayala janu kanaka mukura,--\n Ten\u0307gi ud\u0101sala kucajora,\n Pa\u0304lat\u0323i bait\u0323h\u0101yala kanaka kat\u0323haura,\n Ni\u0304bibandha karala udesa,--\n Vidy\u0101pati kaha: manoratha s\u0301esha.\nXXIV\n Ki kahaba re sakhi iha duhkha ora?\n Ban\u0307s\u0301i\u0304 nis\u0301a\u0304sa garale tanu bhora:\n Hat\u0323ha san\u0307ge pait\u0323haye s\u0301rabanaka m\u0101jha,\n Taikhane bigalita tanu mana l\u0101ja.\n Bipula pulake paripu\u0300raye deha,\n Nayane n\u0101 heri heraye jani keha:\n Gurujana samukha-i bh\u0101vataran\u0307ga,\n Jatanahin\u0307 basane jh\u0101mpi saba an\u0307ga.\n Lahu lahu caran\u0323e caliye gr\u0323ha m\u0101jha--\n Dhaire se bihi \u0101ju r\u0101khala l\u0101ja--\n Tanu mana bibas\u0301a, hasaye ni\u0304bibandha!\n Ki kahaba Vidy\u0101pati? rahu dhanda.\nXCVII\n Katihun\u0307 Madana tanu dahasi h\u0101ma\u0304ri?\n Ha\u0304ma naha S\u0301an\u0307kara, ha-u baran\u0101ri:\n Nahi jat\u0323a iha, ben\u0323i bibhan\u0307ga:\n Ma\u0304lati\u0304 m\u0101la s\u0301ire, naha Gan\u0307ga:\n Motima baddha moli, naha indu:\n Bh\u0101le nayana naha, sindu\u0304ra bindu:\n Kan\u0323t\u0323he garala naha, mr\u0323gamada s\u0101ra:\n Naha phanir\u0101ja ure man\u0323i h\u0101ra:\n Ni\u0304la pat\u0323\u0101mbara, naha b\u0101gha ch\u0101la\n Kelika kamala iha, n\u0101 ha-i\u0304 kap\u0101la.\n Vidy\u0101pati kaha: e hena suchanda:\n An\u0307ge bhasama naha, malayaja pan\u0307ka.\nCXXXV\n Ha\u0304taka darapana, m\u0101thaka phula,\n Nayanaka an\u0303jana, mukhaka t\u0101mbula,\n Hr\u0323dayaka mr\u0323gamada, gi\u0304maka h\u0101ra,\n Dehaka sarabasa, gehaka s\u0101ra,\n P\u0101khi\u0304ka pa\u0304kha, mi\u0304naka p\u0101ni,\n Ji\u0304vaka ji\u0304vana, h\u0101ma tuhu j\u0101ni,--\n Tuhu kaiche M\u0101dhava? kahabi mo-i\u0304.\n Vidy\u0101pati kaha: duho doh\u0101 ho-i\u0304.\nCXXXVI\n Sakh\u012b ki puchasi anubhava mo-i\u0304--\n So-i pi\u0304riti anur\u0101ga bakh\u0101nite\n Tile tile nu\u0304tana ho-i\u0304?\n Janama abadhi ha\u0304ma ru\u0304pa neh\u0101ranu,\n Nayana n\u0101 tirapita bhela:\n So-i madhura bola s\u0301raban\u0323ahi s\u0301unanu,\n S\u0301ruti-pathe paras\u0301a n\u0101 gela.\n Kata madhu-j\u0101mini\u0304 rabase gon\u0307v\u0101yanu,\n N\u0101 bujhanu kaichana keli:\n La\u0304kha la\u0304kha juga hiye hiye r\u0101khanu,\n Tabu hiya jur\u0323ana na geli.\n Kata bidagadha jana rase anumagana\n Anubhava--ka\u0304hu na\u0304 pekha.\n Vidy\u0101pati kaha: pr\u0101n\u0323a jur\u0323a\u0304-ite\n La\u0304khe n\u0101 milala eka.\nCORRIGENDA.\n(Transcriber's note: The corrections listed below have been made in the\ntext).\nXV, 13, for 'man' read 'maid.'\nXXI, for 'beauty?' read 'beauty, my dear?'\nXXXVIII, 6, read 'So fierce he was to fall on me.'\nLI, 13, for 'cymbals twain' read 'twin palmyra fruits.'\nLXVIII, 2, for 'sidelong glances' read 'curving eyes.'\nThroughout text for Vidhy\u0101pati read Vidy\u0101pati.\nNOTE\nOf this edition of VIDY\u0100PATI three hundred fifty and copies have been\nprinted, and three on handmade paper.\n(Transcriber's note: The original page images this book was made from\nwere provided by the Internet Archive).\nEnd of Project Gutenberg's Vidyapati Bangiya Padabali, by Vidyapati Thakura\n*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VIDYAPATI BANGIYA PADABALI ***\n***** This file should be named 38174-0.txt or 38174-0.zip *****\nThis and all associated files of various formats will be found in:\nProduced by James Simmons\nUpdated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions\nwill be renamed.\nCreating the works from public domain print editions means that no\none owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation\n(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without\npermission and without paying copyright royalties. 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