First Sarga: Relishing the Wonder of Rising from Bed

Śrī Kṛṣṇa-bhāvanāmṛta, the Great Poem. Composed by Śrī Viśvanātha Cakravartī.

First Sarga: Relishing the Wonder of Rising from Bed.

The foremost servant of Hari is my shelter.

I take refuge in Śrī Kṛṣṇa Caitanya, the dense rain cloud of divine consciousness who at once dispels the whole realm of darkness and nourishes the entire universe with unbroken torrents of radiance equal to billions upon billions of Cupids. (1)

Holding in my heart Sanātana and Rūpa, who revealed upon earth the eternal forms of the Lord and Lady of Vraja's forest, I follow the loving paths of the saintly devotees, paths praised for their accord with the revealed scriptures that authoritatively disclose the Divine Couple's pastimes. (2)

As the Two disputed by displaying to one another Their unsurpassed skill in battle with Cupid's flower arrows, a certain companion named Fatigue invited Sleep, brought her before Them, and took charge of the quarrel. (3)

The maidservants had long been accustomed to awaken at the proper times for their respective services. Did Sleep herself perceive the end of night, abandon them, and thereby awaken them? (4)

Rising from their couches, the young attendants gazed in alarm for a few moments. Then, seeing that the private sleep of the two sovereigns of amorous refinement, a sleep that yielded one festival after another, remained unbroken, they sat silently upon their own beds. (5)

With yawning voices filled with playful rasa, as though measuring its extent, the maidservants questioned one another about their long vigil. Their dizzy, bee-like glances settled upon their own breasts and seemed to taste the nectar of the love marks there. (6)

Their minds now absorbed in preparing garlands, betel, and the other articles suited to service at night's end, the maidservants heard one among them speak. Overflowing with rasa, she had been blessed by the fragrance rising from the youthful Couple whose limbs Cupid had bound together. (7)

Friends, place your lotus faces at the lattice, send your glances into the chamber, and see what extraordinary delight Sleep enjoys by embracing the two lovers famed for Their intense dance of love. (8)

Uncovered by ornaments, garlands, or garments, the Two cast forth hosts of Their own rays, making the jeweled lamps set here and there resemble unopened blue lotuses and campaka buds. (9)

Did that foremost companion named Śṛṅgāra reproach Them, saying, 'The friends of these Two have no discernment at all,' then cast aside the hundreds of ornaments those friends had arranged and adorn the Couple with hundreds of her own marks? (10)

Because the Two wrapped one another's bodies and thereby became each other's yellow and blue garments, did self-born Cupid fear needless repetition and cast Their actual clothes far away? (11)

When Madana first seized the kingdom of Rādhā's body, he installed Modesty, the guardian of his realm, perpetually upon Her head, eyes, and breast. Alas, has that very Madana now driven her away? (12)

Since we can see Modesty nowhere, did she perhaps offend Cupid and suffer banishment? Or has the great store of our unseen merit taken Cupid's embodied form and arisen to grant our eyes their joyful feast? (13)

Or did Modesty nurture the treasure entrusted to her, offer it to Cupid, and then disappear of her own accord? For when she returns to fortunate Rādhā after Her awakening, Modesty will possess an incomparable abundance. (14)

Encircled by a row of steady yet flashing lightning in the company of the dark cloud, did that Kṛṣṇa-cloud bathe these maidservants in streams of surpassing sweetness, delighting them with His reciprocal offering even before they began the service they owed Him? (15)

They passed several moments preparing the articles appropriate to the season: betel, garlands, various fragrant unguents, glowing braziers, and incense of aguru. (16)

At that time the morning breeze appeared in joyful splendor, eager to delight the king and queen of the bower. I imagine that, having just awakened with limbs relaxed and weak, it was quite unable to travel swiftly. (17)

Kissing the trees and vines that had just blossomed, the breeze spread their abundant fragrances through all ten directions. Carrying those scents into their breathing passages, it awakened the rows of bees. (18)

Awakened by the bees' deeply charming and melodious humming, Vṛndā looked all around. Knowing the proper time, she quickly appointed the birds to awaken her Lord and Lady. (19)

The roosters awoke first, shook their wings, raised their necks, and crowed loudly five or six times. Rādhā then awakened, deeply pained by what their call announced. (20)

Thinking those very birds to be enemies of Her intimate embrace with Kṛṣṇa, She angrily cursed them: 'You whose feet are your weapons, die at once and go to the city of the lord of the dead! Why do you not crow there instead?' (21)

She separated slightly from Her beloved's chest, but when She immediately found the roosters silent, She embraced Her lover again and shone beautifully, attended once more by gentle sleep. (22)

Then those birds began calling again, followed by the lapwings and others. Her sleep shaken away, Rādhā said, 'Ah, please be patient and grant Me one more moment to sleep,' and lightly stretched Her limbs. (23)

Kadamba birds, ducks, swans, cranes, pigeons, śārīs, parrots, peacocks, and cuckoos, moving through the water and over the land of the pleasure grove, sang sweetly in voices resembling the nectar of narrations about Kṛṣṇa. (24)

Awakening together, the fair and dark lovers, whose curved radiance resembled bows of campaka gold and blue lotus, felt the pain of separation when They stretched Their limbs, yet at the same moment found joy as Their chests came into a close embrace. (25)

Certain that the Couple had awakened, the fearless company of maidservants opened the door just enough to make no sound and entered the chamber slowly, made especially graceful by the delicate placement of their steps. (26)

The soft ringing of their anklets increased Rādhā's urgent desire to rise. Yet She could only stir intensely, for She was unable to free Herself from Her beloved's vine-like arms. (27)

The discerning parrot, understanding Vṛndā's gesture, then spoke. Like Śukadeva, who knew the meaning of the Bhāgavata, he was expert at awakening the Lord of the worlds and peerless as an object of that Lord's immense love. (28)

All glory to You, who are wholly accomplished in the skill of every one of Cupid's sports, the nectar of the gopīs' eyes, a lordly elephant sporting in the river of Your beloved's love, and the One who floods the gathered worlds with Your own sweetness! (29)

O ocean of rasa, it is only fitting that, immersed in the bliss of tasting Your beloved's lips, You do not awaken. Yet this night, which once wished to let You enjoy love, now wishes to bring that enjoyment to an end and is cutting short this festive moment. (30)

Give up sleep and loosen Your embrace. Lord, prepare at once to return to Vraja. Morning has come. Follow Your own clever way, and now assume the appearance of one whose desire has been concealed. (31)

All glory to You, delight of Vraja, moon of nectar rising over the ocean of Nanda's heart, divine flower upon the vine of Mother Yaśodā's merit! Go home now and gladden Your relatives. (32)

Then the auspicious, keen-minded śārī spoke, fittingly stationed like a śārī gaming piece upon its board: 'All glory to You, sovereign Lady, the splendor of whose own sportive beauty makes Lakṣmī and the foremost young women thirst!' (33)

That You still lie here, intoxicated by drinking the splendid honey of the lotus face of Love's beloved, was fitting then; at daybreak it is no longer proper. Therefore I am awakening You. (34)

So do not delay. Follow propriety, do not bring shame upon Yourself, and return to the cowherd settlement. Who could teach You the ways of society? All women learn those very ways from You. (35)

Their rising was filled with the sweet tinkling of bracelets and anklets and with flashes of beauty from Their two bodies springing up. Their faces shone with the light of earrings and necklaces lifted by entangling strands of disordered curls. (36)

Made lovely by lotus hands cast here and there in the agitation of searching for Their fallen garments, that rising from bed of the two connoisseurs of love seemed to gather into itself all the beauty of the three worlds. (37)

That rasika pair, Their eyes rolling with languor, all Their limbs slack and Their dress disordered, sat bent upon the bed and somehow became each other's support whenever They stumbled. (38)

Each placed both arms upon the other's shoulders and rested the weight of the body there, Their bending backs adding beauty. As They stretched, Their upturned lotus faces seemed to circumambulate one another. (39)

At that very moment, did Their sleepy beauty perform ārati with ruby lamps formed by the rays of Their teeth as They yawned, while the corners of Their opening eyes became knowing tongues that tasted one another? (40)

Again Their two lovely faces reeled deeply together, while motionless vine-like arms embraced with beautiful radiance. Thinking, 'Let Us enjoy the happiness of a little more sleep, if only for a moment,' They relaxed Their limbs upon the rumpled flower bed. (41)

Perhaps the bed, distressed and distraught by Their impending separation, or Sleep, who had somehow gained only a slight embrace, could not relinquish the Two at dawn. Alas, even so, the calling birds separated Them from both bed and sleep. (42)

Thus ends the First Sarga, entitled 'Relishing the Wonder of Rising from Bed,' in the great poem Śrī Kṛṣṇa-bhāvanāmṛta.