Canto Ten - Chapter 31

The gopīs said: Because of Your birth, Vraja has become more glorious than every other place, and Indirā dwells here forever. Beloved, please reveal Yourself! Your own maidservants, who sustain their lives only for You, are searching for You in every direction.

Lord of love, in the clear autumn lake Your glance steals the beauty from the inner whorl of the finest fully opened lotus. Bestower of blessings, we are Your unpaid maidservants. When You strike us with that glance, is it not a kind of killing?

Foremost of heroes, again and again You have protected us from poisoned water, the serpent and the demon, from rain and wind, from lightning and fire, from the bull demon and the son of Maya, and from dangers on every side.

You are certainly not merely the son who delights the gopī Yaśodā. You are the indwelling witness within every embodied being. Friend, at Brahmā's request You appeared in the Sātvata dynasty to protect the universe.

Chief of the Vṛṣṇis, Your hand grants fearlessness to those who approach Your feet out of fear of worldly existence. Beloved fulfiller of desire, place that lotus hand, which has taken Śrī's hand, upon our heads.

Hero who destroys the suffering of Vraja's people, Your smile shatters the pride of Your own devotees and enchants all women. Friend, reciprocate with us, Your maidservants, and show us Your beautiful lotus face.

Your lotus feet remove the sins of all embodied beings who bow to them. They follow the grazing cows, are the abode of Śrī and have rested upon the serpent's hoods. Place them upon our breasts and cut away the desire within our hearts.

Lotus-eyed hero, Your sweet voice and charming words delight the minds of the wise. Revive us, Your bewildered maidservants who obey Your command, with the intoxicating nectar of Your lips.

The nectar of Your stories gives life to those scorched by suffering. Praised by sages, it destroys sin. Hearing it brings auspiciousness; it is filled with spiritual beauty and spreads everywhere. Those who proclaim it throughout the earth are the greatest benefactors.

Beloved trickster, Your radiant smile, loving glances and playful pastimes are blessings for meditation. The intimate words You spoke in solitude touched our hearts, and now they agitate our minds.

Master, when You leave Vraja by day to graze the animals, we fear that stones, grass shoots and other sharp things cause pain to Your lotus-beautiful feet. Beloved, this thought throws our minds into turmoil.

At day's end You repeatedly reveal to us Your lotus face veiled by dark curling locks and thickly coated with the dust raised by the cows. Hero, by that sight You awaken love within our minds.

Beloved destroyer of distress, Your supremely peaceful lotus feet fulfill the desires of those who bow to them, are worshiped by the lotus-born Brahmā, adorn the earth and are the proper object of meditation in danger. Place them upon our breasts.

Hero, bestow upon us the nectar of Your lips. It increases love, destroys sorrow, is perfectly kissed by the notes of Your flute and makes people forget every other attachment.

When You wander through the forest by day, every instant becomes an age for those who cannot see You. And when we gaze upon Your beautiful face framed by curling locks, the creator of our eyelids seems foolish to us.

Acyuta, enchanted by Your song and knowing the meaning of Your summons, we have come near You after completely transgressing the claims of husbands, children, family lines, brothers and relatives. Deceiver, who would abandon women alone in the night?

Remembering our intimate conversations, the awakening of desire within the heart, Your smiling face and loving glance, and repeatedly beholding Your broad chest, the abode of Śrī, our minds become bewildered by overpowering longing.

Dear Kṛṣṇa, Your appearance among the forests and residents of Vraja completely destroys their suffering and brings auspiciousness to the entire universe. Our hearts yearn for You; please bestow even a little of that remedy which eradicates the heartache of Your own people.

Beloved, Your lotus feet are so tender that we fearfully place them gently upon our harsh breasts. With those same feet You wander through the forest. Are they not hurt by pebbles and other sharp things? Our minds reel at the thought, for You are our very life.