They bind the beloved’s auspicious hands beneath his wedding crown, and make dear Sita speak words of rescue.
Rejoicing in the thief’s good fortune, they offer themselves in sacrifice; the auspicious women fill the courtyard with song.
Pada 60
Our honor has risen higher through this grandson of Mithila! We have no need of a guest’s yoga, austerity, or meditation.
To have been born in Mithila is merit beyond measure; by the Darling’s grace we have gained a guest like you.
He by whose grace the great bonds of the world are severed— we have tied that very Lord firmly in our knots!
Vishvambhara is renowned throughout the world, yet in the Darling’s courtyard he now pounds rice.
We have no need, O guest, of bow and arrows; all we desire from you, O guest, is a gentle smile.
Pada 61
A mustard blossom—Sita’s radiance is immense; a flax flower! How beautifully the bridegroom’s color shines; a flax flower!
From his diamond-like teeth, affection drips—rasa, rasa; it sets every wedding guest aflame—rasa, rasa.
Friend, a torrent of sweet rasa pours down—soaked, soaked; bathe within it—soaked, soaked.
The seven worlds were filled with immense darkness—but in my courtyard four moons have risen together, in my courtyard.