Canto Ten - Chapter 15

Śrī Śuka said: When Kṛṣṇa and Balarāma reached the age of boyhood, They became recognized in Vraja as cowherds. Grazing the cows as They walked with Their friends, They made Vṛndāvana exceedingly holy with Their footprints.

Accompanied by Balarāma and surrounded by cowherd boys who sang His glories, Mādhava played His flute. Driving the cattle before Him, He entered the pasture forest, which bloomed with springtime flowers, eager to enjoy Himself there.

That forest was filled with the lovely sounds of bees, animals and birds. Its lakes, like the minds of great souls, held clear water, and breezes fragrant with lotuses caressed it. Seeing this, Bhagavān resolved to enjoy His play.

There the primeval Person saw trees everywhere bowing until their crowns touched His feet, splendid with reddish new leaves and heavily laden with fruits and flowers. Smiling with delight, He spoke to His elder brother.

Śrī Bhagavān said: Just see these exalted trees, whose flowers and fruits are their offerings. They bow their crowns before Your lotus feet, which the immortal gods worship, so that the darkness incurred by birth as trees may be dispelled.

These bees sing Your glory, which sanctifies all worlds, and follow You, the primeval Person, along the path. They must be sages foremost among Your devotees, for even while hidden in the forest they do not abandon You, their faultless worshipful Lord.

O worshipful one, these peacocks dance with joy; the doe-eyed deer please You with affectionate glances like the gopīs; and the cuckoos greet You, returned to Your home, with beautiful songs. Blessed are all these forest dwellers, for such hospitality is the natural disposition of the virtuous.

Today this earth is blessed: its grasses and herbs receive the touch of Your feet, its trees and vines the touch of Your fingernails, and its rivers, mountains, birds and animals Your compassionate glance. Most blessed are the gopīs, whom You embrace between Your arms, a favor even the goddess Śrī desires.

Śrī Śuka said: With a joyful heart, Kṛṣṇa thus grazed the animals throughout beautiful Vṛndāvana and sported with His companions upon the slopes of the mountain and along the riverbanks.

Sometimes, as intoxicated bees sang and His companions followed their melody, Kṛṣṇa sang along. His own deeds were sung in return as He walked beside Saṅkarṣaṇa.

Sometimes He answered a chattering parrot in its sweet speech, and sometimes He imitated the charming call of a cuckoo. At times He echoed the cries of royal swans; at other times He imitated a dancing peacock and made His friends laugh. With a voice deep as a cloud, pleasing to cows and cowherds, He lovingly called by name to animals that had wandered far away.

He imitated the cries of cakora birds, cranes, cakravākas, bhāradvājas and peacocks, and sometimes, as though afraid, He copied the sounds of creatures fleeing tigers and lions.

Sometimes, when His noble elder brother grew tired from playing, Kṛṣṇa let Him rest with His head upon a cowherd boy's lap and personally served Him by massaging His feet and rendering other comforts.

Whenever the cowherd boys danced, sang, leaped about or wrestled with one another, Kṛṣṇa and Balarāma took their hands, laughed and praised them.

Sometimes Kṛṣṇa Himself, exhausted by wrestling, lay beneath a tree upon a bed of tender leaves with a cowherd boy's lap as His pillow.

Some of the boys massaged the feet of that great soul, while others, freed from sin, fanned Him with hand fans.

O great King, other boys, their minds softened by affection, gently sang charming songs suited to that exalted Lord.

Thus the Lord, whose true nature and movements remain hidden, used His own māyā to imitate through His activities the life of a cowherd's son. He whose tender feet are caressed by the goddess of fortune played with village boys like an ordinary villager, while His deeds revealed the Supreme Lord.

A cowherd boy named Śrīdāmā, a friend of Rāma and Keśava, together with Subala, Stokakṛṣṇa and other boys, spoke to Them lovingly.

Rāma, Rāma, mighty-armed one! Kṛṣṇa, destroyer of the wicked! Not far from here lies a very large forest crowded with rows of palm trees.

Many fruits there are falling or have already fallen, but the evil Dhenuka keeps them inaccessible.

That demon is immensely powerful, O Rāma and Kṛṣṇa, and has assumed the form of a donkey. He is surrounded by many relatives whose strength equals his own.

O destroyer of enemies, because he eats human beings, people avoid that forest in fear. Herds of animals do not enter it, and even flocks of birds stay away.

Its fragrant fruits have never been tasted. Their aroma is spreading in every direction, and You can smell it even here.

Please give those fruits to us, Kṛṣṇa, for their fragrance has made our minds eager. Rāma, we greatly desire them. Let us go there, if the idea pleases You.

Hearing Their friends' words and wishing to fulfill their desire, the two Lords laughed and, surrounded by the cowherd boys, went to Tālavana.

Entering the grove, Balarāma seized the palm trees with both arms and shook them with the strength of a maddened elephant, bringing the fruits down.

Hearing the sound of the falling fruits, the ass demon charged forward, making the earth and its mountains tremble.

The powerful demon rushed upon Balarāma and struck His chest with both hind legs. Braying harshly, the wicked creature then ran about.

The enraged demon returned, placed himself with his back toward Balarāma and furiously hurled his two hind legs at Him again, O King.

Balarāma seized him by the hooves, whirled him around with one hand and threw him into the top of a palm tree, the demon's life leaving him as he spun.

Struck by his body, the tall palm with its broad crown shook and broke against a neighboring tree. That tree struck another, and it in turn struck yet another.

Hit again and again by the donkey's body, which Balarāma had tossed in play, all the palm trees shook as if driven by a mighty wind.

This is not astonishing for Bhagavān Ananta, Lord of the universe, within whom this whole cosmos is woven lengthwise and crosswise as cloth is woven from threads.

Then all the relatives of Dhenuka, enraged by the death of their kinsman and braying loudly, rushed upon Kṛṣṇa and Rāma.

O King, as each demon charged, Kṛṣṇa and Rāma playfully seized his hind legs and hurled him into the palm trees.

Covered with heaps of fruit, lifeless demon bodies and broken palm tops, the ground shone like the sky covered by clouds.

Hearing of this immense deed of the two brothers, the gods and other celestial beings showered flowers, played musical instruments and offered praise.

Thereafter people, free from fear, ate the palm fruits, and animals grazed upon the grass in the forest where Dhenuka had been killed.

Lotus-eyed Kṛṣṇa, whose deeds are holy to hear and sing, returned to Vraja with His elder brother while the cowherd companions praised Him.

The gopīs assembled and came forward, their eyes longing to see Him. Dust raised by the cows covered His curls, a peacock feather was bound in His hair, forest flowers adorned Him, and His eyes and lovely smile were radiant. He played the flute while His companions sang His glories.

With the bees of their eyes, the women of Vraja drank the honey of Mukunda's face and cast off the pain caused by separation during the day. Receiving their reverent welcome, expressed through the release of shy, smiling and modest sidelong glances, He entered the cowherd settlement.

Yaśodā and Rohiṇī, tenderly devoted to their sons, bestowed the highest blessings upon Kṛṣṇa and Balarāma at the proper time and according to Their wishes.

Their weariness from the journey was removed by bathing, massage and other care. They put on beautiful garments and were adorned with divine garlands and fragrances.

Lovingly attended, They ate the delicious food Their mothers served. Then They lay down upon excellent beds and slept happily in Vraja.

O King, one day Bhagavān Kṛṣṇa, while wandering through Vṛndāvana, went to the Yamunā surrounded by His friends but without Balarāma.

Tormented by the blazing summer heat and afflicted by thirst, the cows and cowherd boys drank the river's wicked water, which poison had contaminated.

O foremost of the Kurus, their awareness overcome by fate, they touched that poisoned water and all fell lifeless upon the riverbank.

Seeing His own dependents in that condition, Kṛṣṇa, Lord of the lords of yoga, restored them to life with a glance that showered nectar.

Regaining full awareness and memory, they rose from beside the water and looked at one another in utter astonishment.

O King, they understood that after drinking poison and dying, they had risen again by Govinda's merciful glance.