Eighteenth Sarga: Relishing the Early-Night Pastimes

Eighteenth Sarga: Relishing the Early-Night Pastimes

Seeing reflected in the spotless mirror of the sky a single particle of the facial radiance of the enemy of Agha, who stood atop the palace of the lord of the mountain of bliss, the people began to proclaim, 'The moon has risen!' (1)

Seeing the rows of lotuslike women upon the palace terraces cover their faces with cloth in shame at beholding that radiance, I suspect the foolish lotuses in the lake then contracted beneath the burden of their own pride in being lotuses. (2)

In one place the hosts of cakoras rejoiced at auspicious signs, while elsewhere the cakravāka couples rose amid omens of misfortune. The kumudas held joy within, swarms of bees were released, and bees were bound inside the sullied lotuses. (3)

Darkness entered the forest, lamps entered the afflicted homes, and forest flower fragrance entered the rows of dwellings. Courage and modesty entered the heart-house of the beautiful girl, while proud Cupid arose and began his serpentine play there. (4)

Thus twilight, powerful upon the land of Vraja when neither day nor night held certain authority and all knowledge of family, caste, dharma, and propriety had dissolved, came to an end. Can any dark prosperity remain forever? (5)

Though surrounded by Her elders' residence, Rādhā closed the doors of Her eyes, placed Her own body within the inner golden chamber, and installed Her beloved upon the bed of Her heart. As She delighted with Him there, the newly arrived moonlight spoke to Her. (6)

'Rādhā, You are beautiful with moonlike radiance, yet without Him You are wretched. Without You, He too becomes wretched despite His beauty. Still, He steals the hearts of the three worlds, while longing has now taken embodied form and steals His heart.' (7)

In private Rādhā asked Viśākhā, 'Friend, arrange a rain of nectar through news of Him.' Viśākhā then spoke before the assembly of companions, and the cakora birds of their ears, possessed of undecaying thirst, swiftly drank her words. (8)

The lifter of the mountain sat down to dine with Balarāma adorning one side and Kṛṣṇa the other. Within the assembly hall of Nandīśvara, the noble lord of Vraja shone like Kubera between his two treasures named Padma and Śaṅkha. (9)

Invited and brought each night with their sons, loving relatives who were cakoras for Hari's face respectfully surrounded him. As those lofty mountains of affection sat on every side, Nanda shone like the snow mountain, a mass of bliss embodied. (10)

Friend, the leader of the family quickly served them many kinds of sweet rice, vegetables, and other dishes, each item two or three times. She attained a special delight when their mouths praised the food she had cooked with her own hands. (11)

'Son, this creates nourishment and strength. Eat!' At every step their hearts melted with affection and they offered Him food from their own plates. Kṛṣṇa and the enemy of Dhenuka accepted as much as they wished, concentrating upon its taste. (12)

Again and again His father and uncles asked with words and gestures of the eyes, 'How little have You eaten?' Whatever He then ate gave them fulfillment even before their plates were filled. Thus their nightly meal was merely a formality. (13)

The loving relatives celebrated an ever-fresh drinking festival with their eyes, taking the nectar of Hari's face. Then each accepted betel rolls from his own servant and entered his respective home. (14)

For a moment Kṛṣṇa sat privately upon a flower bed on a bright terrace, surrounded by His smiling friends. When they began praising the weight of sweetness to relieve His despondency, He said, 'Rādhā, hear what they spoke.' (15)

'Subala, in the afternoon, while I followed the cows and walked with all of you through the settlement, what unequaled splendors devoured the whole of My composure today? Tell Me of those enchantresses.' (16)

'Alas, were they graceful lightning waves filtered from nectar churned out of the ocean of sweetness? Were they the sovereign goddesses of an embodied realm of fragrance, or heaps of campaka flowers serving as the bodiless god's arrows? (17)

'Above them, was that a blossoming lotus anointed with saffron, or some moon born from the pure ocean to agitate it? The jeweled pair of intoxicated wagtails dancing in its lap approached My eyes and at once struck them with their tails. (18)

'Bewildered by wonder and thinking, Alas, what is this object? I began to desire even the slightest taste of it. But it was immediately covered by a dense mass of cloudlike companions and vanished among the rows of vines, so I could not lick its power. (19)

'Cupid then followed the path shown by My two eyes and entered the banyan tree of My heart, capable of searching for that vision. He has not returned even now. I understand that the flower-arrowed god has been bound upon the forest floor.' (20)

'Destroyer of Agha, from the moment that praiseworthy form beheld You, Rādhā, the supreme stream of beauty, lost Her composure. She has become the vessel of many fires, making Her friends weep as She rolls upon the ground, Her body washed by streams falling from Her eyes.' (21)

'Slender girl, Mukunda, the reservoir of rasa, is coming to delight You. Here He comes!' When their conversation ended, She looked upon the darkness born at the beginning of night and soothed Her pain, covering Her body from shyness. (22)

At Subala's words, drops of love fell successively from Kṛṣṇa's lotus eyes. The two charming cakora birds seemed to vomit up the pearls they had swallowed before, having mistaken them for rows of moonbeams. (23)

Seeing me standing there absorbed in service, His face checked by boundless longing, He instructed me: 'Go quickly and tell Rādhā to come with rasa to the wish-fulfilling tree beside the Yamunā.' (24)

Hearing the mṛdaṅga, He has now gone to the theater where the members of the assembly who wished to see Him were seated outside. After satisfying their many desires for a moment, He will come to sleep upon the terrace while His mother fondles Him. (25)

Know that your incomparably clever beloved has gone unseen by the people to the bank of the Yamunā, as though to His own lover. Friend, eat just a little, deceive your elders, and swiftly go to Him from longing.' Having spoken, Tulasī departed. (26)

Jaṭilā at once came near and called Her to dine, saying, 'If you feel shy here, chaste girl, take your dear devotee and eat properly with your friends in a secluded place.' (27)

Rādhā licked Her companion with eyes rich in a sweet smile, delighting her through the majesty of modest conduct. Saying, 'Noble lady, I shall do as you say,' She took the rice and other food to Her sleeping chamber. (28)

Because it had come into contact with the abode of the fragrance of Her beloved's face, the rice became delicious to all of them. If even ordinary water enters the celestial Gaṅgā, wherever it may go it breaks the sins of the world and becomes worshipful among the people. (29)

'Friend, listen. Your elders are now asleep inside. Abhimanyu too is far away, in the settlement behind the cows. Lay memory, judgment, composure, and modesty upon your own bed, and go with rasa to meet your beloved in the pleasure grove.' (30)

Love itself walked at every step and showed the path, while the soldier of flower arrows guarded Her on all sides. Moving with a companion whose heart again embraced Her longing, Rādhā did not notice even the slightest fatigue from the road. (31)

'If you fear the bites of people's eyes and ears, cover Your body with a white shawl and go. Smiling girl, disregard Your anklets, noisy as the whole world, and wear a garland of vicakila flowers and a necklace of pearls.' (32)

'Friend, even the single moonbeam from the moon of Your toenail can ornament this entire world with whiteness. The moon has therefore become a redundant, distressed repetition. Did the impure Creator draw upon him this black line of censure?' (33)

Thus Her companions kindled Her observances of Love. Bearing an incomparable burden of virtues and disregarding every obstacle from Her elders, Rādhā left the settlement and reached the forest like a river of affection carrying streams of sweetness toward its beloved ocean. (34)

Groups of attendants, delayed only slightly as they learned the elders' news and distressed to perform their respective services, swiftly followed Her with expert cleverness. Upon the forest floor they reached their innocent-looking mistress. (35)

If angry elders noticed some fault and searched for Her within the guarded residence, Yogamāyā, whose nature is to bring every festival of the son of Vraja's lord to completion, devised the necessary remedy. (36)

She regarded every sound as music from His flute, every pleasing object before Her as Her beloved, and every fragrance as rising from some emblem of Him. In this way She considered Him already reached upon the road. (37)

'Lalitā, what marvel do you see? Your serpent has forcibly wrapped itself around My arm and neck!' The beautiful girl trembled as the restless bow of Her eyebrow rose, for She had merely seen Her own braid resting upon Her shoulder. (38)

'Dear friend, Mādhava may be the supreme petitioner, but You too have become generous toward Him, giving Your mind, wealth, and everything else. Since memory and tradition teach many duties and prohibitions, how can I stand between the two of You as an obstacle?' (39)

'Only Karṇa is famous on earth as a giver, yet, spotless-faced girl, You have given away both ears. Did You not also conquer Bali by offering Your three abdominal folds to this enemy of Agha, whose hundredfold strides of bodiless Love shine so brilliantly?' (40)

'Friend, You have made this pair of eyes wholly His form and cast Your two nostrils into the ocean of His fragrance. Through that very braid You gave Him, Hari in turn binds You with the wealth of His own arms.' (41)

Thus the companion made Her laugh repeatedly along the path, while hundreds of thousands of thirsts forcibly arose without cease. Practicing how to hold the composure that continually slipped away, She walked very slowly and reached the bakula grove. (42)

'Alas, is this the tinkling of Her ornaments? Or have I been deceived merely by the cries of cāṭaka birds? Yet because that sound has entered the path of My hearing and deeply agitated Me, perhaps the tree of My good fortune has finally borne fruit.' (43)

One companion first saw Mukunda standing with His back pressed against a young tamāla tree, repeatedly reflecting in this way. Filled with joy, she quickly told the lotus-eyed girl, 'Beautiful-faced Rādhā, look! Mādhava is standing there.' (44)

Seeing Him before Her, slender Rādhā thought within Herself, 'How many times have I looked there? This cannot be My beloved.' Her heart raced, Her body reeled, and Her understanding scattered. Though normally composed, She became restless. (45)

'Viśākhā, enough of this distant joke by which you make My thoroughly innocent gaze wander. Or perhaps you do not deceive Me: this is a tamāla tree, and Mādhava is the one who moves. Clever girl, your statement has indeed proved true.' (46)

'Friend, I did not speak to laugh at You. Not seeing Him, I said this only to reassure You. You are an ocean of extraordinary cleverness, Rādhā, so let there be no confusion. Still, look upon its beauty for a moment and be pleased.' (47)

Drinking the lotus-faced girls' words, Hari raised His arms and grasped branches in His hands. Concealing His jeweled ornaments and casting aside His yellow upper cloth, the playful Lord stood there visibly like an excellent tree. (48)

'Lotus-faced Rādhā, let us search for Kṛṣṇa from afar beneath the wish-fulfilling trees and bring Him here to the bakula grove. Meanwhile, rest here for a moment, maintaining whatever little composure You can, with Your hand placed upon the trunk of this tamāla.' (49)

After Lalitā spoke thus to the assembly of companions and departed, the beautiful girl watched them go, absorbed in powerful thoughts of Cupid. Slowly approaching the tree, She fell into an ocean of astonishment and climbed a mountain of immense joy. (50)

'How many tamāla trees have I seen? Yet this one alone bears the very radiance of the son of Vraja's lord. I worship the one Creator who has produced such an immeasurable burden of sweetness even among unmoving beings.' (51)

'I shall go near and satisfy My eyes.' Approaching very gently, Her eyes filled with tears, She said, 'Tamāla, what can I say in praise of your incomparable web of beauty? Friend, you are no tree. You are Śrī Kṛṣṇa Himself before Me!' (52)

'King of trees, tightly embrace Me, for I am withered by unbearable burning, and sprinkle Me with Your sweet nectar. Then for a moment I shall properly flood My heart, distressed by the forest fire of bodiless Love, with waves from an ocean of happiness.' (53)

Even after directly gazing upon His limbs, in Her innocence She did not recognize Him, so mature and pure was Her love. Though He wore yellow cloth, the doe-eyed girl thought it merely the reflected mass of radiance from Her own golden body. (54)

When, startled, She looked all around and then forcibly embraced Him with the vines of Her own arms, He too, reeling beneath the dense intoxication of Love, tightly embraced that ocean of prema in return. (55)

Bodiless Love pinned the two bodies together with his arrows and skillfully stole the jewel of each heart. Mādhava long remained like a tamāla without Her, while She became a golden vine forcibly entwining Him. (56)

Somehow the beloved girl finally recognized Her beloved. Though eager for the contest of love, waves of modesty then rose within Her. Tasting again and again Her own incomparable simplicity and His cleverness, the girl with kunda-white teeth smiled. (57)

For the complete establishment of the flower-bowed god's sovereignty, whatever the beloved Couple began there upon the matching bed of flowers could not be fully described even by Sarasvatī. If she studied it for a long time solely from the companions' eyes and then narrated something of it, she would still never finish, for she too would become possessed by the powers of paralysis and tears. (58)

Thus ends the Eighteenth Sarga, entitled 'Relishing the Early-Night Pastimes,' in the great poem Śrī Kṛṣṇa-bhāvanāmṛta.