Pada 175
Kishori, take me into your refuge and keep me there. Compassionate to the lowly, guardian of those who bow before you—do not dwell upon the faults born of this worldly existence. I have no benefactor like you anywhere in the world; listen to my plea with both ears. Your companion, overcome with love, entreats you: take her hand and make her your own.
Pada 176
The beauty of my beloved's eyes is forever new. Beneath the guise of black collyrium, her delighting mind has beheld the dark beloved and made him its dwelling. Her fair limbs, pupils, brows, and lashes move with the irresistible grace of fish. Moment after moment their beauty gathers like a raincloud and showers rasa; the chataka bird of the heart drinks, absorbed. In perpetual union, separation cannot touch them; they are absorbed in the bliss of their own true nature. Jugalviharini knows this state, attainable by grace and the guru; she is accomplished and expert in rasa.
Pada 177
Beloved Sita's two eyes overflow with love. Dark with collyrium, they delight the mind and bestow happiness upon her companions. Khanjana birds, peacocks, fish, lotus petals, bees, and forest deer—none is their equal. If one calls them Rati, Rati herself dies of shame; if one calls them Kama, even Kama cannot compare. Uma, Lakshmi, Brahmani, and all the goddesses were weighed against them, yet none balanced the scale. She is the dear daughter of Sri Mithilesha; only her beloved could offer a fitting comparison. The eyes that behold them become fulfilled and saturated with rasa; no description can ever reach their end. Jugalviharini knows that the Beloved alone truly understands them, gazing upon them day and night.