Seventeenth Sarga: Relishing the Evening Pastimes

Seventeenth Sarga: Relishing the Evening Pastimes

'Lotus-faced girl, Brahmā compared the two of You to the moon, the eternal friend of lotuses. Yet Kṛṣṇa is lighter: the moon is pale and made of earth. Brahmā alone has obtained the greater fame, but only for his foolishness. What wise person would weigh gold against half a mustard seed?' (1)

Day and night He rises to fashion streams of delight for the eyes of the world and to reveal love as the dharma of all moving and unmoving beings. He is an ocean of sweetness with tender rays, the herder of limitless cows, a necklace shining with clouds of beauty, and the destroyer of darkness in every realm. (2)

'He is the supreme boat across the ocean of suffering, the bestower of His hand upon the timid cakravāka birds of our hearts, the very treasury of the earth's good fortune, our friend and a mine of wondrous, incomparable qualities. Is He going away only to fulfill the desire of the lord of cows? Alas, will this destroyer of our ill fortune not abandon us?' (3)

Hearing the tumult of such speech from the celestial women, the sun thought they were praising his own lightness and considered himself blessed to follow their hope, as though hearing nectar. The foolish lady of the western quarter took this praise as her own good fortune. Alas, I think the sun exposed her false affection by disappearing. (4)

As Kṛṣṇa proceeded, the women upon the palace roofs along the road cast flower offerings before Him, their eyes moist with tears and their inner glances slightly raised. The celestial beauties thrilled with horripilation and considered each her own good fortune. Thus, in the proper place, the innocent simplicity of beautiful women yields joy. (5)

When Mukunda entered the inner city and came within the sight of His parents, He plunged into the ocean of their affectionate nectar. Knowing Kṛṣṇa had disappeared from his vision, the sun became like a glowing ember. Did he then wish to plunge into the salt ocean in order to reach Him? (6)

Lotus-stem leaves, uśīra, moonlight, lotuses, and other remedies could not bring even slight relief to Gāndharvā's fever of separation. Then a certain girl arrived on Lalitā's instruction and sprinkled drops of the nectar of news about Him into the hollow of Her ear. (7)

Regaining consciousness, the doe-eyed girl rose in agitation and said, 'Blessed friend, the desert of My hearing, scorched and weary, has now received an unprecedented rain of nectar as though in a dream. It delights Me. Become coolness itself for Me here.' (8)

Her companion said, 'Beautiful-faced girl, Tulasī-mañjarī has come from the queen of Vraja's house. You awoke because she described what happened to Your friend.' The lotus-eyed girl commanded, 'Tell it again!' In the middle of the assembly Tulasī narrated the virtues of the beloved's evening pastimes. (9)

At the palace gate Kṛṣṇa first entered His father's field of vision. Nanda, his body thrilled with horripilation, at once raised Him with both arms. Kṛṣṇa remained motionless for a long time against His unmoving chest, shining like a single blossoming blue lotus in a lake within Mount Kailāsa. (10)

The lord of Vraja loosened the tip of Kṛṣṇa's turban, kissed His head as tears bathed it, and covered His face with his own. I think a spotless autumn cloud covered the moon and washed away its own stain with networks of moonlight to remove the heat within itself. (11)

The queen of the settlement hurried from the house into the courtyard as He entered, while the final watch of the day had made her face wither in grievous pain. Seeing her son nearby, she seemed to release both the Yamunā and the daughter of Jahnu from her two eyes and breasts. (12)

Stiffness overcame her, her throat contracted, and she could neither take Him upon her lap, ask Him anything, nor even look at Him through her flooding tears. Mother Rohiṇī then performed a lovely lamp ceremony and placed Kṛṣṇa, held in her own hands, upon Yaśodā's lap. (13)

Did the moon enter the ocean of parental nectar, its own birthplace? Did the king of love's jewels enter its native mine? Or did the emerald ornament Hari, whose body was anointed with liquid musk, shine beautifully when the Creator placed Him upon the womb-born daughter of affection's nectar? (14)

Until He said, 'Mother, look at Me,' and joyfully wiped the streams from her eyes with His own hand, the swan could not rise within the lake. Then her milk, flowing over His body, washed away the dust of the cows while her loving care became beautiful through that very nursing. (15)

Even amid unceasing waves of bliss, the goddess of maternal affection regained awareness of the duties she cherished. Wiping her son's body with her own hands, she instructed the maidservants to massage Him with oil, bathe Him, speak sweetly to Him, dry Him, and perform the other services. (16)

'Child, your mother dwells in a spotless house of love. Yet I think not even a little compassion for her distress arises in you. Dear son, lotus of your dynasty, when you go to the forest, you never honor your devastated mother with your company even in memory.' (17)

'Even when the day reaches its end after becoming unbearably long, you do not return home, though your father repeatedly calls. Thin with hunger and thirst, you bewilder your parents and friends who long to see you. What use has your mother for these harsh breaths of life?' (18)

The brāhmaṇa boy said to the queen, 'Mother, understand that your exceedingly restless son becomes submerged in the ocean of play with the boys and cannot remember either His friends or Himself. I alone remain disciplined. Had I not restrained Him, He would not have come home even now.' (19)

'You speak the truth. Somehow or other the boys ignore my prohibitions. Every day in their arm battles, their sharp nails forcibly mark His body, which is softer than a blue lotus. What can I do with this restless son? There is no remedy here.' (20)

'While listening to their conversation, I performed the service she desired and ordered at that moment. Rohiṇī then went to the kitchen, and Paurṇamāsī, Kilimbā, the nurse, Gārgī, and the others arrived and fondly caressed her son.' (21)

After bathing, Kṛṣṇa shone in yellow cloth, His hair bound beside His forehead. He wore sandalwood designs and a vaijayantī garland, a girdle, necklaces, armlets, bracelets, the Kaustubha, abundant anklets, splendid earrings, and spotless tilaka. (22)

The queen of Vraja seated Balarāma, Kṛṣṇa, the brāhmaṇa boy, and their friends comfortably after they had quickly bathed, ornamented, and anointed themselves. First she gave them a fragrant, cooling drink and then fed them many varieties of the three kinds of food. (23)

Saying, 'This is especially dear to all of you,' she gave them five kinds of cakes prepared by you for the wine pastime and other sports. At that very moment their five senses bathed in an ocean of nectar formed from its fragrance, softness, taste, sound, appearance, and their own delight. (24)

'Mother, for the fortunate person who has even experienced the fragrance of this food, what appeal can heaven or liberation possess? Shame on the Creator for not making my belly infinite! Those who say, Do not give me more, I declare offenders here.' (25)

Thus they completed their meal amid the brāhmaṇa boy's joking words. They washed their mouths, ate rolls of betel before the friend of the gods, and rested for a moment. Just as Kṛṣṇa, with His friends' permission, went out to milk the cows, I came here. (26)

Receiving from the fine moon of Tulasī's face the cherished play-remnants of Her beloved, which had been tied in the edge of her garment, Rādhā flooded the rivers of Her ears and tongue with their abundant immortal rasa and cooled Her life airs with streams of joy. (27)

She then left the elders' residence and came to the bank of the lake. With Her companions She ascended a fine terrace within a garden. Unseen by others, She drank the moonlight of Murāri's face and thereby obtained immeasurable joy rising even through Her eyes. (28)

Upon the king of turbans, whose warm folds covered the crooked locks rising around His face, did a golden row of threads tremble like pearls released with care? Or did restless lightning, rooted in a garland of stars, flash within a radiant jewel eager to devour dense darkness above the moon? (29)

The enemy of Agha's two earrings move beside His cheeks, breaking through the darkness of dharma among the people of Vraja with their unrestricted rays. Unable to stand before the moon of His face, the pair of suns take shelter at its two sides and delight Him with their dancing. (30)

Cupid tied his pair of makara fish to Kṛṣṇa's ears and, entirely concentrated, shot at them with the sharp arrows of His eyes. Frightened by the humming of the bee host praising the flower ornaments there, do those makaras innocently and effortlessly attempt to flee? (31)

'Beloved, alas, the two stars that attained Your clear and tender pair of eyes at once became restless beneath their gathered burden of intoxication. The children born from them are Your sidelong glances, which drag the composure of respectable women from the inner chambers of society and corrupt it. (32)

'We know these all-direction-conquering glances to be bandits moving upon the river of Love, with joy, eagerness, composure, pride, and the other transient moods as their plunder. Taking shelter of a restless emerald boat named the pupil, they rob the eye-merchants among the women.' (33)

'This is no gentle smile rising from Your red bimba lips, nor is it nectar dripping from two bandhūka flowers to intoxicate the world. Friend, look! With My eyes as its target, a coral machine of Love has forcibly discharged a stream of blue camphor that enters them.' (34)

Rādhā gazed upon the moon of Her beloved's face and at once seemed to enter the waves of an ocean of joy, as though modesty itself. Restoring Her awareness, Viśākhā said, 'Dear friend, look at Hari's cow-milking pastime, for whose sake you consider your mother-in-law's exceedingly bitter evening command to be like a particle of nectar.' (35)

He called, 'Dhavalī! Śabalī!' The listening cow replied, 'Hambā!' Recognizing His call, she passed all the others and came near. His eyes moist with tears, He stroked her back with His hand and first delighted the lifter of the mountain with gentle scratching. (36)

Friend, He raised one heel, bent both knees visibly, and placed the shining pail between them. The moon of His beautiful face was reflected in that jeweled vessel. His nose touched the cow's belly, His loosened turban released a mass of intoxicated bees, and the lotus of His playful glance abandoned its dance. (37)

He first worshiped the earth with a stream of milk. Then, raising the udder with two or three fingers of each hand and holding His lotus hands downward, He milked within the pail as the sounds ghusama-ghasama and śana-śana rang out. (38)

Moon-faced girl, the other eager cows raised their ears there. Fresh, spotless drops suddenly spattered His broad thighs and shanks in wondrous patterns. Cows bent their necks toward Him, and their calves drank His radiance with tear-filled eyes. Your beloved milked new nectar from them. (39)

'Muṣṇī, come! Hurry! Bring her! Give her! Go!' Cows of many colors were milked in complete clarity. The cows there, the dark rays arising from the lifter of the mountain's body, and the voices that described them were all beyond crossing. How could such boundless cows and words fit within a poet's measure? (40)

After milking, Kṛṣṇa sometimes followed the indication in His dear friend's glance and went toward Rādhā, while at other times He returned affectionately to His own home. In summer the connoisseurs sometimes went to the lake to soothe the evening heat. Thus the blessed forever plunge into the ocean of His pastime nectar. (41)

The setting sun had torn his thousand spreading rays into pieces across the sky. Then, as though those very fragments were being swallowed by a motionless elephant of darkness in every direction, he disappeared. (42)

Thus ends the Seventeenth Sarga, entitled 'Relishing the Evening Pastimes,' in the great poem Śrī Kṛṣṇa-bhāvanāmṛta.