With bride and bridegroom we shall pass our lives in Mithila, while millions of eyes gaze upon the vine of beauty.
Chitachorana
Pada 311
Priceless is the bridegroom’s beauty; curling locks hang like dark-blue jewels. His crown shines upon his head, flashing like sun and moon with light at every instant.
Or perhaps a new moon has risen in the sky, displaying some wholly unprecedented comparison. His blue-lotus eyes and nectar-like speech pour sweetness beneath the splendor of his brows.
All the companions become a swarm of honeybees, drinking the nectar of his beauty until they are intoxicated. Where in all the three worlds could there be another form so wondrous and incomparable?
Great is the fortune of Janaka’s Daughter; may this blessed couple live age after age. Says Ramalochana: tender Sita has received the fruit of her worship of Girija.
Balamuvan
Pada 312
Abandoning every worldly hope, I have come into refuge—O noble one, look upon me once. Where can I carry this blazing fire that burns for you? Its flames consume my body, and I find no moment’s peace.
Yet your heart shows me no compassion; this seems a boundless wonder. Scripture, the Vedas, holy books, and good saints all call you the crown of generous rasikas.
Why then do you torment me? What pleasure is there in refusing to look upon me? Sustained only by hope, this fallen one’s life refuses to depart; night and day I endure terrible pain.
You take the orphan’s hand and make that soul your own—why did you not first look upon my faults? Why recoil in disgust and shame to turn your eyes toward me?