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Even Brahma would hesitate to declare that he was an incarnation of Sita’s Beloved; renowned as a world-teacher, he fashioned the exquisite Manas.

Again and again I bow to his lotus-feet. Be gracious, and fill my heart with the generous love of Sita and her Beloved.

I bow to the venerable foremost Acharya, crown of all the rasikas; when the field of loving devotion had grown parched, that king of rasa poured down its rain.

The dust of his feet is my wealth, my life, and my very breath. Knowing me to be small and lowly, reveal to me the wisdom of rasa.

Sri Nabha, Sri Lal Ali, and the eminent Sri Madhuracharya; Sri Ramahari, Rupa Sakhi, the treasure of compassion toward the humble;

Sri Ramcharan Hari, Rasika Ali, Sri Yugalapriya, the mine of rasa; Sri Yugalananyasharan, the life and breath of the rasikas;

Sri Janakivarasharan, the great and learned master; Sri Ramavallabhasharan, and all the other great rasikas—

I bow to the lotus-feet of every one of them, my two hands ever joined. All of you, please show mercy, knowing me to be the least of the lowly.

Let the passion for the secret play increase within me day by day, and remove my ignorance. This alone is my longing: may all of you together be gracious to me, O treasures of compassion.

Victory, victory to Sri Janaki! Victory to the youthful Lord of Awadh! Victory to him in the bridegroom’s attire, the crown of all rasikas!

Sita, Mandavi, Urmila, and Shrutakirti stand beautifully at their bridegrooms’ left; to the four lovely brides and the four lovely bridegrooms, Tulsi bows.