Twenty-second Sarga: Night Pastimes

I remember Rādhā and Kṛṣṇa at night, eagerly united and worshiped by Vṛndā through many services, shining among Their dearest friends in forest wanderings, song, rāsa, dance, and endless varied pastimes, attended by Their loving companions, and finally falling asleep upon a beautiful flower bed. (1)

Vṛndā and her attendants humbly petitioned the Lord and Lady of Vṛndāvana and led Them with Their circles of friends to the faultlessly beautiful veranda of the palace, radiant in the full moon's light. (2)

There she seated Them upon a golden terrace decorated with flowers, spread with fine Chinese cloth, and cooled by breezes from the daughter of Mount Kalinda, the Yamunā. (3)

With deep absorption Vṛndā served her two Lords and Their companions with wondrous flower ornaments, lotus stems, betel, fragrances, fans, and excellent water brought by groups of friends. (4)

Seeing that forest, that night, those beloved women, the dark Yamunā, and her sandbanks, Kṛṣṇa felt a desire for the rāsa pastime arise within His heart and became impelled by it. (5)

Forest roaming with the whole company, circular wheel-dancing, the hallīsaka, paired dancing, vigorous tāṇḍava, and individual graceful lāsya; (6)

the singing of many compositions, amorous joking accompanied by dance, and water play: He successively performed these limbs of rāsa. (6-7 form one sentence.) (7)

He desired to sport in the forest, which shone with moonlight, swayed in a gentle breeze, blossomed into spring enlivened by His presence, and resounded with dancing peacocks, cuckoos, and bees. (8)

Through the song of His flute He informed the gopīs of His desire. They approved it by singing a response that repeatedly invoked His name. (9)

Kṛṣṇa sang, 'O My beloved circle of friends, in this flowering forest whose lovely form is white with moonlight, My heart today desires to sport with you.' They replied, 'So be it, beloved Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa!' (10)

He rose with His group of beloved women and, followed by Vṛndā, softly sang while wandering clockwise around every tree, vine, and bower. (11)

Hari joyfully entered and sported in the forest, where a gentle Malaya breeze stirred the leaves of vines and trees, cuckoos skillfully sounded the exquisitely sweet fifth note, bees and peacocks called, and the songs of His beloved company filled the air. (12)

The trees, vines, deer, birds, and bees of Vṛndāvana rejoiced to behold Hari's forest wandering. They seemed to rise from a faint, regain fresh youth, bathe in nectarean rasa, and become painted with honey. (13)

The forest sent before her flocks of birds, deer, and bees eager for Kṛṣṇa. Wrapped in masses of moonbeams and stirred by the wind, she seemed to approach Him from afar with musical cries, trembling in delight. (14)

The moonlight mingled with the bodily splendor of the fair-limbed gopīs, and the forest appeared either anointed with liquid gold or washed in water of molten silver. (15)

The moving rays from Kṛṣṇa's limbs shone through union with the mass of radiance from Śrī Rādhikā's body, like fluttering clusters of tamāla leaves colored by the concentrated light of the embodied moon. (16)

Kṛṣṇa asked them all, 'Birds and deer, are you welcome and happy? Trees and vines, does all go well with you? Bees, is your good fortune uninterrupted?' (17)

Seeing Hari, the forest danced like a dancer. Tender shoots were her hands, flowering branch tips her ornaments, the calls of bees and cuckoos her lovely song, and the wind her dance instructor who moved her body. (18)

The flowering vāsantī vine lovingly called with joy, waving tender-shoot hands in the breeze as though inviting the countless bees following Rādhā and Kṛṣṇa to drink her honey, thinking them weary. (19)

As though teaching, 'A gopī gives up the conventional duty of her family to delight Kṛṣṇa,' the mālatī blossomed even out of season for His pleasure and praised Him with the humming of bees. (20)

The mallī vine extended Hari's joy. Darting intoxicated bees were her playful sidelong glances, flowers her laughter, and her wind-tossed body seemed to dance. (21)

Seeing Kṛṣṇa arrive nearby, the assembly of vines seemed to dance in delight. The joyful cries of birds formed their auspicious prelude, and their tender-shoot hands, raised and moved by the sandal-scented breeze, opened like expressive eyes. (22)

The rows of bowers also expressed love. Variegated by strands of guñjā berries and many flowers, furnished with beds of new leaves, and filled with the speech of bees and cuckoos, they awakened longing in Kṛṣṇa, His beloved, and Their companions. (23)

When the dark cloud Kṛṣṇa appeared before them, His body embraced by the lightning Rādhā, showering nectar and sounding deep thunder, the intoxicated peacocks danced wildly nearby with raised tails while the peahens cried out. (24)

Śrī Hari's forest delighted all the senses with humming bees and calling birds, cool moving breezes, ripened fruits, moonlight, and the exquisite fragrance of fully opened flowers. (25)

The beautiful daughter of Vṛṣabhānu then picked two slightly opened clusters from an aśoka vine with Her restless hand and placed them upon Hari's ears. (26)

She moved away, undefeated as always in lovers' quarrels, yet Hari stole the two clusters from Her hand and placed them upon His beloved's ears. (27)

Surrounded by sweet-voiced girls with slender waists and singing charmingly, Kṛṣṇa heard His spotless qualities sung in response. On the pretext of offering flower clusters and blossoms, He touched their limbs and increased their unbounded longing for private love play. (28)

Through His company Kṛṣṇa adorned them with the ornaments of emotion, including kilakiñcita, vivvoka, vilāsa, and lalita. (29)

The vines He praised seemed to sing His words back through the humming of bees. He delighted the gopīs by touching them on the pretext of picking flowers. (30)

Whatever Hari sang about the moon, vines, and other forest forms, the friends afterward repeated about Hari together with His beloved, sometimes reversing the wording and meaning and sometimes substituting Kṛṣṇa's name. (31)

Hari sang, 'That treasury of arts, the moon, whose nature delights the world and who expands the elephant of desire within women's hearts, shines while sporting between Rādhā and Anurādhā.' (32)

The friends replied, 'This treasury of arts, Kṛṣṇa, whose nature delights the world and who expands the elephant of desire within women's hearts, shines while sporting between Rādhā and Anurādhā.' (33)

Hari sang, 'In this excellent flowering mālatī bower, this punnāga tree shines in the grove, surrounded on every side by blossoming mālatī vines.' (34)

The friends replied with the same words as a loving double entendre: 'In the company of this excellent Mālatī, this noble hero shines in the secluded grove, surrounded on every side by blooming Mālatīs.' (35)

Hari sang, 'The flowering mādhavī vine shines embraced by the spring, Mādhava, and Mādhava shines with her. The whole world rejoices in their union as it delights the eyes on every side.' (36)

The friends repeated, 'The blossoming Rādhā shines embraced by Mādhava, and Mādhava shines with Her. The whole world rejoices in Their union as it delights the eyes on every side.' (37)

Hari sang, 'Through their mutual union in this forest, that pleasure-giving golden vine and the crowned tamāla tree have both blossomed amid their constant rows of bees.' (38)

The friends replied, 'Through Their union in this forest amid Their constant friends, the golden-vine Rādhā and the crowned dark Kṛṣṇa have both blossomed and bestowed happiness.' (39)

Hari sang, 'How wondrously the moon, destroyer of darkness, sports at night among fresh lotuses, singing softly, delighting the heart, and seeming to proclaim Love's command!' (40)

The friends replied, 'How wondrously Madhusūdana sports at night among the youthful lotus maidens, singing softly, delighting their hearts, and seeming to proclaim Love's command!' (41)

Hari sang, 'The white-rayed lover of night, dispeller of darkness, has removed the brilliance of the lotus hosts. In the cloudless dark-blue sky this nourisher of night-lilies shines joyfully.' (42)

The friends replied, 'The lover of Rādhā, dispeller of ignorance, humbles the brilliance of every lotuslike beauty. In the cloudless dark bower this radiant nourisher of the joyful girls shines splendidly.' (43)

Rādhā sang, 'The moon is expert at making lotus ponds forlorn and has brought distress upon the cakravāka birds. Setting the stars at ease within the sky, that wretched moon does not rise for my joy.' (44)

Kṛṣṇa replied, 'That beautiful moon increases the beauty of the beautiful-eyed girls. Free from separation and accompanied by his own stars, he makes the lily groves flourish. Surely our moon rises for the highest joy.' (45)

Singing in this way, satisfied by beholding the full sweetness and beauty of the forest, Kṛṣṇa made the vine-like beloved women blossom through His touch. Wandering here and there with them and surrounded by swarms of bees following Him, He reached the terrace of the Vaṁśīvaṭa tree. (46)

Seated there, He beheld the dark Yamunā, whose thirst had increased through the joy of seeing Him, whose rows of foam were laughter, whose birdsong was music, and whose senses eagerly longed for His company. (47)

Her wave-hands rose for the festival of touching Him; her restless blue and red lotuses were blossoming eyes; the raised mouths of crocodiles were her lofty nose; and eager whirlpool cavities were her ears. (47-48 form one description.) (48)

Seeing the sandbanks and desiring to sport there, Hari rose with His beloved company to cross to the far side of the Yamunā. (49)

As they approached her waters, the dark river placed lotuses at their lotus feet with her wave-hands and repeatedly bowed, seeming to touch each of them with those offerings. (50)

From the marshy bank ahead, a royal swan surrounded by female swans approached Mura's enemy, sounding his own measured steps as though rapidly practicing the jingling gait of the young women. (51)

The Yamunā first swelled with joy at Acyuta's approach until her current stumbled, but when she saw Him eager to cross, she lowered her water and gentled its movement. (52)

The dark river's water reached Their knees, but to please Kṛṣṇa the streams around the sandbanks became only ankle-deep. (53)

Hari comfortably crossed those streams one after another and wandered in play over the sandbanks with His beloved company. (54)

Kṛṣṇa sported through meaningful smiling glances, playful conversation, embraces, placing His nails upon their breasts, kisses, and other intimacies, repeatedly expanding their thirst for the play of love born from His company. (55)

He then reached the sandbank called Cakra-bhramaṇa. Desiring to sport there, He mounted the great wheel with His beloved company. (56)

The wheel had a hub fixed in the ground, stood one span high, and possessed three rims. Kṛṣṇa stood at its center with Rādhā, while the other groups of friends formed three beautiful successive circles outside Them. (57)

The three circles, filled with streams of rasa, surrounded Hari as Rādhā embraced Him. They resembled rows of golden young bees encircling a tamāla tree embraced by a golden vine. (58)

Rādhā and Mukunda instructed Lalitā and the other friends in the arena of the hallīsaka dance. Then those two foremost masters of graceful dance placed Their arms upon one another's shoulders and danced. (59)

As the beautiful-hipped dancers moved their feet with expert artistry, the wheel beneath Them turned like a potter's wheel. (60)

At times Acyuta placed Rādhā between Lalitā and Viśākhā with Her arms upon their shoulders. Singing with the other singers, He danced and revolved with the groups of dancers. (61)

Sometimes Hari's beloveds moved at the same speed as the swiftly turning wheel; sometimes slowly, sometimes rapidly, and sometimes in many varied tempos. (62)

Appearing between every pair of women with His arms upon their shoulders, He resembled a dark tāpiñcha tree dancing with moving golden vines. (63)

At times He spun so swiftly like a wheel of fire that each woman thought, 'He has never left me to go anywhere else.' (64)

He formed a single circle with all His beloveds around its edge. Shining and dancing among them while turning the wheel, He appeared splendid. (65)

Displaying His power, He repeatedly stepped down from the moving wheel, either simultaneously in many forms or successively, and swiftly remounted it at each place. (66)

The gopīs too sometimes all dismounted and remounted together, and sometimes one by one, continually reforming their circle. (67)

After sporting with them through these wheel-turning dances, Hari descended from the wheel for the special pastime of rāsa. (68)

With the friends Kṛṣṇa reached the excellent broad sandbank called Anaṅgollāsa-raṅga, 'the arena of Love's exultation.' The Yamunā had prepared it with the soft hands of her waves; lily-scented breezes had swept it; and the nectar of moonbeams had sprinkled and anointed it. (69)

Kṛṣṇa formed a beautiful circle there with His beloveds holding one another's hands. Moving among them with Rādhā, He resembled the moon with Viśākhā shining inside a surrounding halo. (70)

The revolving circle of beautiful women resembled the golden wheel of Love, the king of potters, turned by the rod of Hari to fashion vessels called rāsa and other pastimes. (71)

That circle appeared to be a vast golden net, its floats the women's breasts, cast by the master fisherman Love into the ocean of play to capture the fish of Hari's mind. (72)

At times the Lord appeared between each pair in the row of beloveds whose hands were mutually joined. Placing His two arms upon the shoulders of each pair, He revolved with them in dances of many different movements. (73)

With His arms shining upon the shoulders of His beloveds, the moving circle of Kṛṣṇa's forms surpassed a network of cloud fragments, each embraced by steady lightning and whirled by a circular wind. (74)

At times He remained one, yet by the swiftness of His turning He shone beside every woman at once like a revolving circle of fire. (75)

The flute and vocal songs of Hari and His beloveds mingled with floods of sound from their bracelets, girdles, and anklets. Following the foot-beats radiant in their dancing movements, that music pervaded the worlds with its unsurpassed sweetness. (76)

They sang both free and formally composed music and separately articulated the notes called sa, ri, ga, ma, pa, dha, and ni. (77)

Joyfully they sang the two classes of melodic jāti, pure and modified: seven varieties of the pure and eleven of the modified. (78)

They sang the three grāmas called ṣaḍja, madhyama, and gāndhāra, including the gāndhāra-grāma inaccessible to mortals. (79)

They sang the twenty-two microtones distributed among the seven notes, the forty-nine tānas, and the twenty-one mūrcchanās. (80)

They sang fifteen kinds of gamaka, including tiripa and ādika, and beautiful sthāyas of many varieties beginning with cāla. (81)

They sang composed music in its two divisions, śuddha and sālaga. The pure division had three designations: prabandha, vastu, and rūpaka. (82)

Within prabandha they sang many varieties beginning with svara and pāṭha, many kinds of rāga, and their opening and concluding notes. (83)

They sang the three melodic classes: sampūrṇa with seven notes, ṣāḍava with six, and auḍava with five. (84)

They sang the rāgas Mallāra, Karṇāṭaka, Naṭṭa, Sāma, Kedāra, Kāmodaka, Bhairava, Gāndhāra, Deśāga, Vasantaka, Mālava, and others. (85)

They sang the rāgiṇīs Śrī, Gurjarī, Rāmakirī, Gaurī, Āsāvarī, Goṇḍakirī, Toḍī, Velāvalī, Maṅgala-gurjarī, Varāṭikā, and Deśa-varāṭikā; (86)

then Māgadhī, Kauśikī, Pālī, Lalitā, Paṭha-mañjarī, Subhagā, and Sindhuḍā in succession. (87)

They repeatedly played in sequence the solid, covered, stringed, and many varieties of wind instruments supplied by Vṛndā. (88)

They played the muraja, ḍamaru, ḍampha, maṇḍu, mamaka and other drums; the muralī, pāvikā, vaṁśī, and mandirā flutes; and hand cymbals; (89)

as well as the vipañcī, mahatī vīṇā, kacchapī, karināsikā, svara-maṇḅalikā, and rudra-vīṇā. (90)

In their dancing they displayed hand gestures called patākā, tripatākā, haṁsāsya, kartarī-mukha, śukāsya, mṛgaśīrṣa, sandaṁśa, and khaṭṭakā-mukha; (91)

along with śucīmukha, ardha-candra, padma-koṣa, ahi-tuṇḍika, and other hastas. (92)

They maintained many kinds of rhythm: some with the characteristics of dhruva, others of maṇṭha, and still others with their own distinctive features; (93)

with the three kinds of entry, past, future, and simultaneous, and with rhythmic shapes such as samā, gopucchikā, and srotovahā; (94)

with the three tempos, fast, medium, and slow, and with two kinds of maintenance, silent and sounded; (95)

and with two measures of repetition, one called increasing and the other decreasing. (93-96 form one sentence.) (96)

The rhythms included Cañcat-puṭa, Cācapuṭa, Rūpaka, Siṁha-nandana, Gaja-līlā, Eka-tāla, Niḥsārī, and others; (97)

Aḍḍaka, Pratimaṇṭha, Jhampa, Tripuṭa, Yati, Nalakūvara, Udghaṭṭa, Kuṭṭaka, and Kokilārava; (98)

Upāṭṭa, Darpaṇa, Rāja-kolāhala, Śacī-priya, Raṅga-vidyādhara, Vādakānukūlaka, and Kaṅkaṇa; (99)

Śrī-raṅga, Kandarpa, Ṣaṭ-pitā-putraka, Pārvatī-locana, Rāja-cūḍāmaṇi, and Jaya-priya; (100)

Rati-līlā, Tribhaṅgī, Caccarī, and Vāra-vikrama. Kṛṣṇa and His beloveds maintained these and many other rhythms in their dance. (101)

Thus ends the Twenty-second Sarga, describing the rāsa pastimes, in the poem Govinda-līlāmṛta, which shines through Śrī Raghunātha Bhaṭṭa, arose from the association of Śrī Jīva, was composed by Śrī Raghunātha Dāsa, was bestowed as the fruit of serving Śrī Rūpa, and belongs to the honeybee at the lotus feet of Śrī Caitanya. (Colophon)