Fourth Sarga: Relishing the Beauty of Adornment

Fourth Sarga: Relishing the Beauty of Adornment.

Then, before Her residence, the beautiful-faced Rādhā shone as Her attendants swiftly surrounded Her to wash Her face with water of a suitable temperature poured from a golden ewer. (1)

Again and again She cupped water in Her palm, moved it from Her teeth to Her palate, and quietly expelled it. The rising and falling of Her two cheeks filled it with a charming sound. (2)

With movements of the fingers of Her left hand, She swept the scattered curls onto Her head. She then washed Her naturally glossy and immeasurably radiant forehead, cheeks, eyes, and other features three times. (3)

With Her exceedingly soft hand, which resembled a budding lotus, beautiful-eyed Rādhā accepted from Her friend a radiant, tooth-benefiting twig of a celestial desire tree. (4)

As She brushed Her teeth with that twig, the thread upon Her wrist swung visibly, Her bracelets remained silent, and Her earrings trembled. She made Her teeth assume a lovely splendor that seemed to leap like sparkling droplets. (5)

Then the lovely-toothed Rādhā gladly accepted from a companion a bow-shaped jeweled tongue scraper, holding it between two fingers of Her two tender hands. (6)

Bowing and gently moving Her head as She cleaned Her fresh-petal-like tongue, She shone with a smile while loosened curls fell around and covered Her face. (7)

After thoroughly cleansing both the inside and outside of Her moonlike mouth and washing both hands, She gracefully removed the water droplets with a lovely cloth offered by an attendant. (8)

She looked into a jeweled mirror held by a companion, a witness to the sakhīs' delight, and washed Her face once more with the nectar of Her smile. That face bore the visible signs of the festival enjoyed by Her beloved. (9)

Although Her attendants joyfully removed the ornaments unsuitable for bathing, Rādhā continued to shine. The marks those ornaments left upon Her limbs had themselves become flawless ornaments. (10)

Casting a cautious glance about, She rose while putting on a white cloth suited for bathing. She appeared like an upright, motionless vine of lightning enveloped in beautiful moonlight. (11)

Seated again upon a soft seat, She shone like the moon encircled by a halo. Her attendants formed that circle, for they were always supremely skillful in rendering flawless, unconditional service. (12)

Rati Mañjarī removed the cloth from Rādhā's head and at once released the mass of Her hair from the arrangement in which it had previously been bound. This greatly increased the radiance of Her exquisite form. (13)

Spreading the loosened hair with separated fingers, Rati Mañjarī bathed it in fragrant oil. By rubbing and massaging it with the backs of her hands, she made its inner smoothness immeasurable. (14)

Her gentle massage, performed upon Rādhā's head with lotus-bud-like hands, made the bracelets ring. Rādhā's eyes partly closed, and Her body took on a delicate trembling born of immense pleasure. (15)

The deep darkness of Her hair had obstructed the moon of Her face. Rati Mañjarī therefore quickly drew it away with the weapon of a jeweled comb and bound it, making that darkness fully suffer the consequence of its offense. (16)

As the row of maidservants uncovered Her cloth to apply oil to Her breasts, arms, and other limbs, they smiled upon seeing the marks left there. Bowing Her body in shyness, Rādhā cast frightened glances about the secluded place. (17)

One skillful maid quickly brought saffron, camphor, and lotus pollen gathered together, moistened with rosewater, and blended with liquid sandalwood. (18)

Other attendants rubbed that fragrant paste over Her limbs. Those limbs were like rising lightning in brilliance and like clouds in showering the nectar of loveliness; while expertly tending them, the maids drank that nectar with their own eyes. (19)

Another maid then treated Rādhā's hair with fragrant āmalakī liquid and abundant gentle strokes of her soft palms, making the luxuriant locks acquire the beauty born of fine cleansing. (20)

Moving with the gait of an elephant, Rādhā stepped onto the round crystal bathing platform before Her, which was fitted all around with drains. By imparting Her own beauty to it, She made its crystal radiance appear golden. (21)

One attendant poured a slender stream of water from a pitcher over Rādhā's head, while another repeatedly washed the mass of Her hair with both palms in the highest delight. (22)

Sprinkled with abundant water, the long blue banner of Her hair hung down with a gentle curve. Was it Cupid's golden standard, manifest in the form of Her body, unfurling an immense flood of radiance? (23)

When every limb had been cleansed, the sakhīs repeatedly bathed Her with suitably prepared, exquisitely fragrant water, while cries of victory arose all around. (24)

How astonishing! Held above Her hair, the crystal water vessel seemed made of sapphire; brought near Her face, it appeared composed of many jewels; above Her palm, it looked like coral; and before the radiance of Her breasts, it seemed newly fashioned from gold. (25)

When lowered near the white cloth upon Her hips, that same crystal vessel appeared to become a solid mass of water. Though only one object, it assumed many forms through Her beauty and became a worthy instrument for praising Her form. (26)

With cloths held in their hands and white as autumn clouds, the delighted young attendants wiped the water droplets from Rādhā's exquisite body, as though gathering pearls borne upon a motionless vine of lightning. (27)

An attendant wrapped Rādhā's mass of hair in a cloth to remove its water, yet it shone even then. Was the Yamunā, though covered by the celestial Gaṅgā, extending its radiance in order to conquer her? (28)

The maid gently twisted that cloth, and the hair repeatedly released water as it turned. Was a mass of dense darkness weeping because pale moonlight had swallowed it? (29)

After wrapping Her lower body in a lovely dry cloth, beautiful-eyed Rādhā removed the garment in which She had bathed. The earth eagerly received it, thinking, 'My own virtue, fragrance, has now assumed a visible form.' (30)

Standing upon the platform, the jewel among young women cast a cautious glance about and slightly contracted Her body. With fingers like campaka buds, She spread the hair that hung forward before Her face. (31)

Holding the two ends of a cloth in Her hands, She struck and shook Her curls with it, filling the air with minute particles of water. At that moment She manifested the very essence of radiant beauty. (32)

Did a motionless vine of lightning, befriended by pure moonlight, repeatedly raise its two branches and strike the dense darkness of Her hair, which bowed low yet remained lofty in strength? (33)

She put on a splendid, richly patterned skirt, beautifully gathered at the waist and hanging down to the tips of Her feet, its inner edge secured by a crimson cord. (34)

Over it gleamed a fresh, cloud-colored sari marked with golden dots. Its very wrapping was said to restrain Mukunda's otherwise unrestrained gaze. (35)

A mass of aguru smoke embraced Her long hair, licked away its remaining moisture, and rose as high as heaven. Whose prosperity would not become exalted through devoted service to the great? (36)

Sudevī, honored by every art, approached to serve the moon-faced Rādhā, who sat upon a golden seat encircled by leaping warriors of radiance. The sight filled Sudevī with joy. (37)

Placing the palm of her left hand upward at the nape of Rādhā's neck, alternately opening and closing it, Sudevī repeatedly drew the hair forward with the comb held in her other hand and arranged it there. (38)

Was the mighty current of Yamunā, drawn through a golden net, swallowed as it fell upon the partly closed and partly blooming lotus of Her face, which had arisen in great strength? (39)

The fine line of Her central parting, formed by the lovely comb, increased in brilliance above Her forehead. At the crown it bore two charming little tails and resembled the slender, celebrated pathway of bodiless Cupid. (40)

Did the celestial Gaṅgā of sweetness suddenly assume a visible form and flow there for the sport of the elephant of Hari's heart? The attendants' eyes were boats upon it, it arose in three streams, and remembrance of it destroyed all affliction. (41)

Lalitā stood before Rādhā and carefully placed a splendid crest jewel upon Her head. It shone amid the rows of dark hair like the rising sun, yet as their beloved it did not dispel that darkness. (42)

A fresh row of pearls touched that jewel on every side and also rested along the parting. Had a host of stars, dissatisfied with the cool-rayed moon, abandoned him and gathered around the sun? (43)

The slender, bowlike forehead ornament, set with pearls and kissed by arranged curls, was not merely an ornament. It was a row of bubbles bordered by moving moss upon the nectarean lake of Her face, whose waves were radiant with rasa. (44)

Sudevī joined the terminal threads of the crest jewel, pearl strand, forehead ornament, and other pieces into Rādhā's hair and decorated it with flowers, forming an excellent braid that extended sweetly as far as Her calves. (45)

Had the moon, through austerity, attained the form of Her face while casting upward its own dark blemish? That blemish became this braid and, extending its rays, descended to Her feet and bowed there in order to be accepted. (46)

At the end of the braid Sudevī fastened a soft silk tassel adorned with gold, diamonds, pearls, and many colors. Its radiance resembled a splendid assembly of fully blooming lotuses. (47)

From the wish-fulfilling vine of Hari's desire descended the hanging braid, and at its end did Cupid fasten a celestial fly whisk of superb radiance, surpassing those of Indra's city? (48)

Lalitā joked, 'Dear Sudevī, are you the goddess who bestows bondage? You have bound this mass of hair so firmly! Yet Hari Himself will swiftly release it again and again through the signs of His love.' (49)

Lalitā spoke these words while raising the doe-eyed Rādhā's face and steadying Her head with her left hand. Holding a fine applicator in the other, she began marking the forehead beautified by its curls. (50)

She quickly painted a wonderfully intricate tilaka: within a circle of liquid aguru blended with musk shone a delicate vermilion lotus, accompanied by a dot of sandalwood mixed with camphor. (51)

Did Cupid seize a crescent moon from the Lord of Umā after defeating him and fashion it into Rādhā's forehead? Upon it he placed the tilaka, the long-cherished pure rasa of love now embodied with all its distinctive features. (52)

Upon the excellent golden tablet of Her forehead, surrounded by the alphabet-like characters of Her curls, the tilaka shone like Cupid's mystical diagram. Its splendid colors formed a mantra, and it possessed the power to enchant Her beloved and fill Him with profound delight. (53)

Then Lalitā gracefully lined Rādhā's eyes with collyrium applied by a camphor-tipped wand. How could even the most eloquent tongue describe the immediate sweetness of Her contracting eyelashes? (54)

Thinking that the radiant sun had no sovereignty there, darkness covered with its own splendor those two lotuses, the sun's dearest beloveds. Astonishingly, this only made the beauty of Rādhā's eyes more powerful and enduring. (55)

Smiling, Lalitā spoke charming words to the eyes beneath Rādhā's arched brows: 'Knowing that you two thirst for the dark radiance of Kṛṣṇa, I have immediately offered you this very liquid of dark luster.' (56)

'Dear fish, now beautifully colored with collyrium, when the dark cloud of Kṛṣṇa rises, proudly begin at once a dancing movement whose lightness protects your exquisite art of emotion.' (57)

Teased in this way, moon-faced Rādhā replied, 'My eye has never become a dancer, for it has not studied under that foremost actor, your sidelong glance. Friend, what use is your praise of this untrained eye?' (58)

Lalitā quickly adorned the peak of Rādhā's nose with an excellent pearl set with many jewels. It was like a moon holding a beautifully ornamented star upon his breast because he cherished his own lovely beloved. (59)

Disguised as that ornament, the king of radiance sat upon the royal throne of a golden lotus and took perpetual command of the rasa-filled city of Hari's gaze, a city otherwise impossible for anyone to subdue. (60)

Thinking it the fresh seed of the vine of loveliness and desiring to pluck it, did the two playful eyes sent by the foe of Agha become repeatedly and intensely restless only here at Her nose ornament? (61)

Did this brilliant round jasmine bud become Cupid's arrow the instant it left the quiver of Her sesame-flower nose, free of every defect and powerful enough to overturn Mukunda's composure? (62)

Lalitā addressed the ornament whose good fortune increased throughout the world: 'Dear ornament, you are a hook baited with the nectar of sweetness. Proudly draw in at once the fish of Hari's gaze.' (63)

Viśākhā replied, 'That fish is born from the ocean of anurāga and swallows the caskets holding the composure, fear, and judgment of respectable women. Let it pull away the hook together with its support. Who on earth can restrain it?' (64)

Drinking the nectar of the two friends' words, Rādhā raised Her dancing brows and said plainly, 'Friends, Kṛṣṇa and you stand by mutual agreement as objects of one another's pulling. You all fulfill the very meaning of the root kṛṣ.' (65)

Upon Her ears, already adorned with jasmine flowers, they placed a pair of jeweled circular ornaments with pins above and a pair of jeweled earrings below. Their radiance appeared to have been purified through fine cloth. (66)

Did two excellent new shoots of Cupid's tree bear jeweled flower clusters filled with the wine of radiance, granting profound intoxication and joy to the bee Kṛṣṇa, who sings their praise? (67)

As Lalitā painted makara designs upon Rādhā's tender cheeks, she seemed to summon the makara-bannered Cupid, whom Hari would worship at the proper rasa-filled moment by offering the crimson leaf of His lower lip. (68)

Seeing the earrings' diamonds reflected in the two fresh nectar-lakes of Rādhā's cheeks, did those makaras open their mouths thinking the flickering lights were grains of puffed rice, only to become motionless with delight? (69)

Lalitā told the two painted makaras, 'May the full art of your rasa become fruitful: choose as your husbands that pair of superb makaras who take the form of earrings and serve the ears of Kṛṣṇa, the destroyer of sin.' (70)

Rādhā answered, 'Friend, these two of Mine are steady, full of rasa, and tender; they do not resemble those two who are fickle, dry, and hard. Do not rashly utter such joking words here.' (71)

She continued, 'Lay that affectionate pair of earring-serpents upon the hard breasts of the two serpent-maidens who form your own armlets. Among such supremely wealthy companions of equal hardness, perhaps their restlessness will cease.' (72)

A dot of musk appeared at the center of Her chin. Did the moon, moved by compassion, take upon his lap a child of darkness whose relatives he himself had destroyed with his rays? (73)

Lalitā said, 'A dark-colored seal has been impressed upon this moon of a face born from the ocean of sweetness. Seeing His own mark, Kṛṣṇa will know this nectar-moon as His possession, fill it with rasa, and savor it again and again.' (74)

Was Her two-cornered chin a skillfully folded cup of golden ketakī leaf made by Cupid, holding the fresh bimba fruit of Her lip, with the brilliantly radiant child of a bee resting within? (75)

Then Citrā used camphor, aguru, sandalwood, and saffron to paint exceedingly delicate leaves, shoots, and vines upon the breasts of beautiful-bodied Rādhā, forming a wonderfully lovely design. (76)

Were those two excellent cakravāka birds of Cupid, Rādhā's breasts, emerging suddenly after bathing in the lake of rasa with delicate moss upon them? Kṛṣṇa, the elephant foe of Baka, would sport greatly with them through the trunks of His arms. (77)

Campakalatā at once adorned one arm and Indulekhā the other with jeweled armlets. The arms then resembled two superb lotus stalks bearing pale, shattered moons bound upon them. (78)

Campakalatā teased an armlet: 'Because your name means giver of a limb, I infer that you will give your beautiful wearer someone's incomparable limb. Otherwise your name is false, or perhaps you will be accused in every assembly of cutting that limb apart!' (79)

Indulekhā replied, 'Friend, when this armlet enters Hari's gaze, it will soon become a giver of Anaṅga, Cupid, to Him as well. Through its extraordinary artistry it fulfills our highest purpose and thereby protects its own generosity.' (80)

Smiling gently at the two friends' joking, Rādhā lowered Her eyes and said, 'Why speak of one armlet? In the entire collection of your limbs, Hari has plainly become the giver of His limbs, the giver of Cupid, and also the medicine that cures Cupid's fever.' (81)

The two friends placed delicate jeweled bracelets upon Her wrists, fashioned from sapphire and adorned with painted lines of gold. Their soft, sweet ringing was flawless and perfectly even. (82)

Was a row of black bees, driven away by the young swans of Her nails above, still so intensely greedy for the lotus that it took shelter around the neck of its stalk, Her wrist, while pretending to be blue lotus petals? (83)

Under the guise of bracelets and bangles, Rādhā placed at Her wrists garlands formed from the radiance of Her beloved's body and garments. Such is the nature, praised by the wise, of those who keep their rosary always at the wrist. (84)

The exceedingly radiant wrist thread at the base of the leaflike hand became a dark snare set by Cupid the bird-catcher to bind the cakora bird Hari beside the vine of nectar. (85)

Rings shone upon the petals of Her hands, except upon the thumb, forefinger, and middle finger of the excellent right hand. Had a circle of stars surrounded the two newly strengthened lotuses after the moons of Her nails took shelter there? (86)

Viśākhā quickly dressed the doe-eyed Rādhā in an exceedingly soft crimson bodice that covered Her breasts and was beautifully strung with pearls along its upper edge. (87)

Was this crimson bodice the foremost warrior Anurāga, eager for the sport of subduing Hari, emerging from within to display his strength upon the field of Her heart after swiftly overstepping the land of conventional virtue? (88)

Viśākhā placed upon Her the desired strings of jewels, beginning with a close-fitting necklace and descending from the neck in a suitable, gently swaying sequence. Each successive division increased the distinctive beauty of Her breasts. (89)

Did Cupid pour a pure stream of celestial Gaṅgā water, the pearl necklaces flowing from the golden conch of Her neck, over the two images of Śiva formed by Her breasts, to destroy the accumulated consequences of his former offense? (90)

Viśākhā placed a pendant at the Viṣṇu-pada of Rādhā's heart. Clear as a mirror, it bore the full weight of Hari's reflected radiance, and its peerless preciousness became supreme upon earth, like Dhruva fixed in Viṣṇu's celestial station. (91)

Tuṅgavidyā lovingly fastened an extensive girdle of tiny bells above Rādhā's hips. Was mighty Cupid, ever celebrating, hanging a jeweled festival arch within his own residence? (92)

Upon the bank of Her navel-lake, colored by the rising splendor of waves formed by Her three folds, did a superb flock of playful cranes glory in Cupid's pride through the girdle's sweet calls? (93)

Raṅgadevī placed jeweled anklets upon Rādhā's lotus feet, already adorned by lovely foot bangles with swanlike notes. Then she set excellent sounding toe rings there, bright with jewels worth immense fortunes. (94)

Was Sweetness itself, bearing many names in order to make its existence fruitful, rolling at Her feet as those ornaments? Crying 'raṇa, raṇa', 'speak, speak', did it urge other fortunate connoisseurs to praise the qualities of those feet? (95)

Astonishingly, although the tips of Her nails, soles, and other portions of Her feet were already deeply crimson, they were dyed again with lac. Do people not worship the mighty sun even with the small glow born from a lamp? (96)

The red sun had brought his beloved lotus to the state of Her feet, yet he himself took the form of their lac dye. This inspired the dancing of the two transcendental swanlike anklets, a dance that delighted every performer. (97)

A friend told the lac, 'Do not grieve that you are unworthy of Her. You are devoted to Her, and your good fortune will become still greater when you color Hari's forehead and curls.' (98)

Though Rādhā's mind was overwhelmed, this seemingly harsh remark made Her cast a crooked glance and sternly rebuke that friend, for She was being served by another companion, an intensely powerful longing to meet Kṛṣṇa. (99)

Rādhā said, 'Friend Lalite, it suits you to tease Me by placing your own virtue upon another's head. Proud girl, if I attain Him during this lifetime, do you think I shall not laugh at you in return?' (100)

Rasa Mañjarī respectfully applied a paste made from sandalwood, camphor, musk, and other fragrances. Quietly overwhelmed by Rādhā's incomparable natural bodily perfume, that paste became merely its servant. (101)

Delightedly, Tulasī placed a garland of atimuktaka flowers upon Her splendid pearl-adorned breast and a play lotus in Her lotus hand. Thus both the radiant breast and hand became doubly endowed with pearls and lotuses. (102)

Raṅgaṇamālā quickly placed a jeweled mirror before beautiful-eyed Rādhā. As if licking the radiance of Her body, it doubled both Her ornamented form and the rows of ornaments bearing such abundant splendor. (103)

Seeing the radiance of Her own succession of sweet limbs, Vṛṣabhānu's daughter was touched by rising wonder. Knowing the long waves moving through Her beloved's mind, She spoke inwardly within Her heart. (104)

'From where has this ocean of sweetness, never before experienced, come to inhabit My body? Drinking this rasa, how could Madhusūdana, surrounded by such a festival, possibly maintain His composure?' (105)

'Whenever My beloved experiences even an unpolished particle of My radiance, He enters an ocean of delight. When He experiences this beauty, will such a moment truly come to pass for Me?' (106)

'Yet why does this mass of beauty now rise outwardly when it is unfortunate enough not to be seen by Him? Who would not mourn a precious and honored treasure when it becomes fruitless?' (107)

As Rādhā reflected in this way, the forceful companion Longing to See Her Beloved suddenly enthroned Her in the realm called Loss of Composure. Though brilliant and powerful, She became fearful beneath that companion's irresistible insistence. (108)

Just then Kundalatikā, the fortunate girl sent in great haste by Yaśodā, the unfailing wish-fulfilling vine of maternal affection and queen of Vraja, arrived before Rādhā to delight the bee of Her eye. (109)

As soon as they saw one another, they rose, smiled, and eagerly exchanged affectionate inquiries. This became a shower of nectar increasing their joy, and the circle of sakhīs, radiant with equal friendship pleasing to every heart, rejoiced. (110)

Thus ends the Fourth Sarga, entitled 'Relishing the Beauty of Adornment,' in the great poem Śrī Kṛṣṇa-bhāvanāmṛta.