HV 70.1
ततः प्रभाते विमले पक्षिव्याहारसंकुले । नैशाकरे रश्मिजाले क्षणदाक्षयसंहृते ॥
tataḥ prabhāte vimale pakṣivyāhārasaṃkule | naiśākare raśmijāle kṣaṇadākṣayasaṃhṛte
Then in the pure morning, full of bird-call, with the moon's net of rays dispersed at the night's ending.
The Living Words
*Prabhāte vimale*, 'in the pure morning'; *pakṣi-vyāhāra-saṃkule*, 'thronged with bird-call'; *naiśākara-raśmi-jāle*, 'the moon's net of rays'; *kṣaṇadākṣaya-saṃhṛte*, 'dispersed as the night ended.' Each adjective adds to the single scene: morning that is purely itself. The verse is entirely a time-setting; nothing happens yet.
The Heart of It
The Harivaṃśa lets the chapter open on an empty scene. Before Akrūra bathes, before the vision comes, there is only the clear morning and the birds. This patience is the theological point. Darśana does not arrive on request; it arrives into attentively inhabited time. The Varkari saints' insistence on the early morning, on the still hour, on the dawn-recitation of the Name, is continuous with this verse. Jñāneśvar's Haripāṭh assumes the reader is up before the birds are loud. The chapter that will hold one of scripture's clearest visions starts in simple, unoccupied attention to the sky.