राम

The Rāsa-līlā opens 59 of 100

The Beauty That Confounds the Gopīs

9 verses

Your body, soft as the new kalāya flower, the milking-out of the highest love, infinitely enchanting, of Brahman-truth and supreme bliss-form: seeing it day after day, the women lost themselves. The daśaka opens the long sequence of the Rāsa-līlā.

Daśaka 59, Verse 1
त्वद्वपुर्नवकलायकोमळं प्रेमदोहनमशेषमोहनम् ।
ब्रह्मा तत्त्वपरचिन्मुदात्मकं वीक्ष्य सम्मुमुहुरन्वहं स्त्रियः

tvadvapurnavakalāyakomaḻaṁ premadohanamaśeṣamohanam brahmā tattvaparacinmudātmakaṁ vīkṣya sammumuhuranvahaṁ striyaḥ

Your body, soft as the new kalāya flower, the milking-out of the highest love, infinitely enchanting, of Brahman-truth and supreme bliss-form: seeing it day after day, the women lost themselves.

Daśaka 59, Verse 2
मन्मथोन्मथितमानसाः क्रमात्त्वद्विलोकनरतास्ततस्ततः ।
गोपिकास्तव न सेहिरे हरे काननोपगतिमप्यहर्मुखे ।। ५९२ ॥
निर्गते भवति दत्तदृष्टयस्त्वद्गतेन मनसा मृगेक्षणाः ।
वेणुनादमुपकर्ण्य दूरतस्त्वद्विलासकथयाभिरेमिरे

manmathonmathitamānasāḥ kramāttvadvilokanaratāstatastataḥ gopikāstava na sehire hare kānanopagatimapyaharmukhe 592 nirgate bhavati dattadṛṣṭayastvadgatena manasā mṛgekṣaṇāḥ veṇunādamupakarṇya dūratastvadvilāsakathayābhiremire

With minds churned by Kāmadeva, gradually devoted to looking at you, the gopis here could not bear, Hari, even your going to the forest at dawn.

Daśaka 59, Verse 3
काननान्तमितवान्भवानपि स्निग्धपादपतले मनोरमे ।
व्यत्ययाकलितपादमास्थितः प्रत्यपूरयत वेणुनाळिकाम्

kānanāntamitavānbhavānapi snigdhapādapatale manorame vyatyayākalitapādamāsthitaḥ pratyapūrayata veṇunāḻikām

When you went out at sunrise, the wives of Vraja stood at their doors, their eyes following until you were lost in the trees. They forgot the morning's work.

Daśaka 59, Verse 4
मारबाणधुतखेचरीकुलं निर्विकारपशुपक्षिमण्डलम् ।
द्रावणं च दृषदामपि प्रभो तावकं व्यजनि वेणुकूजितम्

mārabāṇadhutakhecarīkulaṁ nirvikārapaśupakṣimaṇḍalam drāvaṇaṁ ca dṛṣadāmapi prabho tāvakaṁ vyajani veṇukūjitam

When you returned at evening, dust from cattle-hooves on your hair, peacock feather slightly bent, they came running to the lanes to meet you. The work of the day stopped.

Daśaka 59, Verse 5
वेणुरन्ध्रतरलाङ्गुलीदलं ताळसञ्चलितपादपल्लवम् ।
तत्स्थितं तव परोक्षमप्यहो संविचिन्त्य मुमुहुर्व्रजाङ्गनाः

veṇurandhrataralāṅgulīdalaṁ tāḻasañcalitapādapallavam tatsthitaṁ tava parokṣamapyaho saṁvicintya mumuhurvrajāṅganāḥ

At night, when their husbands had eaten and slept, the gopis lay awake, listening for the sound of the flute. They did not know yet what they wanted; they only knew they could no longer sleep.

Daśaka 59, Verse 6
निर्विशङ्कभवदङ्गदर्शिनीः खेचरीः खगमृगान्पशूनपि ।
त्वत्पदप्रणयि काननं च ताः धन्यधन्यमिति नन्वमानयन्

nirviśaṅkabhavadaṅgadarśinīḥ khecarīḥ khagamṛgānpaśūnapi tvatpadapraṇayi kānanaṁ ca tāḥ dhanyadhanyamiti nanvamānayan

Mothers turned to mothers. 'My son will not eat without him near; my daughter only sings his name.' The gopis answered: 'Our hearts have all gone the same way.'

Daśaka 59, Verse 7
आपिषेयमधरामृतं कदा वेणुभुक्तरसशेषमेकदा ।
दूरतो बत कृतं दुराशयेत्याकुला मुहुरिमाः समामुहन्

āpiṣeyamadharāmṛtaṁ kadā veṇubhuktarasaśeṣamekadā dūrato bata kṛtaṁ durāśayetyākulā muhurimāḥ samāmuhan

By your form alone, the entire cowherd-place was being slowly turned. The Vṛndāvana of the gopis was not the same Vṛndāvana the children played in. It had become a different place.

Daśaka 59, Verse 8
प्रत्यहं च पुनरित्थमङ्गनाश्चित्तयोनिजनितादनुग्रहात् ।
बद्धरागविवशास्त्वयि प्रभो नित्यमापुरिह कृत्यमूढताम्

pratyahaṁ ca punaritthamaṅganāścittayonijanitādanugrahāt baddharāgavivaśāstvayi prabho nityamāpuriha kṛtyamūḍhatām

What is this rasa? The cowherd-women had no word for it; they could only weep, smile, watch.

Daśaka 59, Verse 9
रागस्तावज्जायते हि स्वभावान्मोक्षोपाये यत्नतः स्यान्न वा स्यात् ।
तासां त्वेकं तद्द्वयं लब्धमासीद्भाग्यं भाग्यं पाहि मां मारुतेश

rāgastāvajjāyate hi svabhāvānmokṣopāye yatnataḥ syānna vā syāt tāsāṁ tvekaṁ taddvayaṁ labdhamāsīdbhāgyaṁ bhāgyaṁ pāhi māṁ māruteśa

Lord, in this preparation, the women were being readied for the great night that was coming. The afternoon's loneliness was the rāsa-līlā's first practice.