Swelling breasts, hard, like golden cups.
Those wanton glances have stolen my heart,
O beautiful one, protest no longer.
I am eager as a bee, let me take your honey.
Darling, I beg you, holding your hands,
Do not be cruel, have pity on me.
I shall say that again and again,
No more can I suffer the agony of love.
Her tears carved a river
And she broods on its bank,
Hurt and confused.
You ask her one thing,
She speaks of another.
Her friends believe
That joy may come again.
At times they banish hope
And cease to care.
I have run to call you.
Radha each day
Thinner than the crescent in the sky…
Childhood and youth are mingled both.
Her eyes have taken the road to her ears:
Wily are her words,and her low laugh
As if the moon appeared on earth.
She takes a mirror to array herself.
And asks:’what is thegame of love ,my dear?’
How many times she secretly regards her bosom,
Smiling to see her breasts!
First like a jujube,then like an orange,-
Love day by day enfolds her limbs:
O Madhava,I saw a girl surpassing fair,
Childhood and youth were one in her!
Saith Vidyapati:Oh foolish maid,
The wise would say,The twain have met.
Your moon-faced love
Had never guessed
That parting hurts.
Radha is tortured,
Dreading you will leave.
Love has robbed her of all power,
She sinks clasping the ground.
Startled, she wakes
Only to brood again.
Tears wash the make-up
From her breasts.
Her arms grow thin,
Her bracelets slide to the ground.
Radha’s head droops in grief.
Her fingers scar the earth
Bleeding your name.
Awake, Radha, awake,
Calls the parrot and its love.
For how long must you sleep,
Clasped to the heart of your Dark-Stone?
Listen. The dawn has come
And the red shafts of the sun
Are making us shudder.
Oh friend, I cannot tell you
Whether he was near or far, real or a dream.
Like a vine of lightning,
As I chained the dark one,
I felt a river flooding in my heart.
Like a shining moon,
I devoured that liquid face.
I felt stars shooting around me.
The sky fell with my dress,
leaving my ravished breasts.
I was rocking like the earth.
In my storming breath
I could hear my ankle-bells,
sounding like bees.
Drowned in the last waters of dissolution,
I knew that this was not the end.
The moon spits fire,
And loaded with fragrance
Mingle in sad love.
Kokila, bird of spring,
Why do you torture?
Why do you sing
Your love-provoking song?
My lover is not here
And yet the god of love
Schemes on and on.
You do not know the meaning of ‘tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow’ is my tomorrow
Escapes the dam of youth.
You are in love,
So is your lover,
And your two banks
Are brimming with the flood.
My lover left and I would die
Than wait still longer
For his loved return.
The fragrance of flowers
Enters the city,
The moon and night enchant,
Yet all are enemies.
Her hair dense as darkness,
Her face rich as the full moon:
Couched in a seat of love.
Her eyes rival lotuses.
Seeing that girl today,
My eager heart
Is driven by desire.
Innocence and beauty
Adore her fair skin.
Her gold necklace
On the twin hills,
Her breasts ….,
Radha’s glances dart from side to side.
Her restless body and clothes are heavy with dust.
Her glistening smile shines again and again.
Shy, she raises her skirt to her lips.
Startled, she stirs and once again is calm,
As now she enters the ways of love.
Sometimes she gazes at her blossoming breasts
Hiding them quickly, then forgetting they are there.
Childhood and girlhood melt in one
And new and old are both forgotten.
Says Vidyapati: O Lord of life,
Do you not know the signs of youth?