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Bhramar-gīt-sār · Complete padas 271–285

Padas 271–285

Unit 19 of 26Pada 271Pada 28515 source entries

Pada 271

Source

मधुकर! पीत बदन किहि हेत? जनु अन्तरमुख पांडु रोग भयो जुवतिन जो दुख देत॥ रसमय तन मन स्याम-धाम सो ज्यों उजरो संकेत। कमलनयन के बचन सुधा से करट घूँट भरि लेत॥ कुत्सित कटु बायस सायक सो अब बोलत रसखेत? इन चतुरी तें लोग बापुरे कहत धर्म को सेत॥ माथे परौ जोगपथ तिनके वक्ता छपद समेत। लोचन ललित कटाच्छ मोच्छ बिनु महि में जिऐं निचेत॥ मनसा बाचा और कर्मना स्यामसुन्दर सों हेत। सूरदास मन की सब जानत हमरे मनहिं जितेत

madhukara! pīta badana kihi heta? janu antaramukha pāṃḍu roga bhayo juvatina jo dukha deta|| rasamaya tana mana syāma-dhāma so jyoṃ ujaro saṃketa| kamalanayana ke bacana sudhā se karaṭa ghū~ṭa bhari leta|| kutsita kaṭu bāyasa sāyaka so aba bolata rasakheta? ina caturī teṃ loga bāpure kahata dharma ko seta|| māthe parau jogapatha tinake vaktā chapada sameta| locana lalita kaṭāccha moccha binu mahi meṃ jiaiṃ niceta|| manasā bācā aura karmanā syāmasundara soṃ heta| sūradāsa mana kī saba jānata hamare manahiṃ jiteta

English translation

Fresh editorial translation from the भ्रमरगीत-सार authority

Bee, why has your face grown yellow? It is as though tormenting young women has given you an inward pallor and wasting disease. Your body and mind are supposedly steeped in rasa, the dwelling of Śyāma—why then this bleached sign? From the nectar of the lotus-eyed Lord's words you keep filling your throat with bitter draughts. Why speak now like the vile, harsh shaft of a crow in what should be a field of rasa? By such cleverness, poor people call your master the bridge of dharma. Let the path of yoga fall upon the heads of those who expound it, together with its six-footed spokesman. Without the liberation granted by his lovely sidelong glance, we cannot live upon this earth. In thought, speech, and deed our love belongs to Śyāmasundara. Sūrdās says: he knows everything in our hearts, for he has conquered the heart itself.

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Pada 272

Source

मधुकर! मधुमदमातो डोलत। जिय उपजत सोइ कहत न लाजत सूधे बोल न बोलत॥ बकत फिरत मदिरा के लीन्हें बारबार तन घूमत। ब्रीडारहित सबन अवलोकत लता-कली-मुख चूमत॥ अपनेहूँ मन की सुधि नाहीं पर्यो आन ही कोठो॥ सावधान करि लेहि अपनपौ तब हम सों करु गोठो। मुख लागी है पराग पीक की, डारत नाहिंन धोई। ताँसों कह कहिए सुनु, सूर, लाज डारि सब खोई

madhukara! madhumadamāto ḍolata| jiya upajata soi kahata na lājata sūdhe bola na bolata|| bakata phirata madirā ke līnheṃ bārabāra tana ghūmata| brīḍārahita sabana avalokata latā-kalī-mukha cūmata|| apanehū~ mana kī sudhi nāhīṃ paryo āna hī koṭho|| sāvadhāna kari lehi apanapau taba hama soṃ karu goṭho| mukha lāgī hai parāga pīka kī, ḍārata nāhiṃna dhoī| tā~soṃ kaha kahie sunu, sūra, lāja ḍāri saba khoī

English translation

Fresh editorial translation from the भ्रमरगीत-सार authority

Bee, drunk with the intoxication of honey, you stagger about. You shamelessly say whatever rises in your heart and cannot speak one straight word. Seized by wine, you wander babbling, your body swaying again and again. Devoid of modesty, you inspect everyone and kiss the faces of vines and buds. You have no awareness even of your own mind, having fallen into someone else's chamber. First collect yourself and become sober; then come converse with us. Your mouth is stained with the betel-spittle of pollen, yet you refuse to wash it away. To whom can anything be said? Hear Sūr: you have cast off shame and lost everything.

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Pada 273

Source

मधुकर! ये सुनु तन मन कारे। कहूं न सेत सिद्धताई तन परसे हैं अँग कारे॥ कीन्हो कपट कुंभ विषपूरन पयमुख प्रगट उघारे। बाहिर बेष मनोहर दरसत, अन्तरगत जु ठगारे॥ अब तुम चले ज्ञान-बिष दै हरन जु प्रान हमारे। ते क्यों भले होहिं सूरप्रभु रूप, बचन, कृत कारे

madhukara! ye sunu tana mana kāre| kahūṃ na seta siddhatāī tana parase haiṃ a~ga kāre|| kīnho kapaṭa kuṃbha viṣapūrana payamukha pragaṭa ughāre| bāhira beṣa manohara darasata, antaragata ju ṭhagāre|| aba tuma cale jñāna-biṣa dai harana ju prāna hamāre| te kyoṃ bhale hohiṃ sūraprabhu rūpa, bacana, kṛta kāre

English translation

Fresh editorial translation from the भ्रमरगीत-सार authority

Bee, hear this: your body and mind are black. No trace of white spiritual perfection appears anywhere; by touching that body, every limb of yours has darkened. Deceit has fashioned a jar filled with poison, while milk lies openly upon its mouth. Its outward appearance is enchanting to behold, but within sits the deceiver. Now you have set out to give us the poison of knowledge and steal away our lives. How could they ever be good, asks Sūr, when the Lord's form, words, and deeds are all dark?

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Pada 274

Source

मधुकर! तुम रसलंपट लोग। कमलकोस में रहन निरंतर हमहिं सिखावत जोग। अपने काज फिरत ब्रज-अंतर निमिष नहीं अकुलात। पुहुए गए बहुरै बेलिन के नेकु न नेरे जात॥ तुम चंचल हौ, चोर सकल अँग बातन क्यों पतियात? सूर बिधाता धन्य रच्यो जो मधुप स्याम इकगात

madhukara! tuma rasalaṃpaṭa loga| kamalakosa meṃ rahana niraṃtara hamahiṃ sikhāvata joga| apane kāja phirata braja-aṃtara nimiṣa nahīṃ akulāta| puhue gae bahurai belina ke neku na nere jāta|| tuma caṃcala hau, cora sakala a~ga bātana kyoṃ patiyāta? sūra bidhātā dhanya racyo jo madhupa syāma ikagāta

English translation

Fresh editorial translation from the भ्रमरगीत-सार authority

Bee, you people are libertines of rasa. You live forever in the chamber of the lotus, yet teach us yoga. For your own purposes you wander throughout Braj without suffering distress for even an instant. Once the flowers are gone, you do not return or draw even slightly near their vines. You are fickle, a thief in every limb—why should anyone trust your words? Sūr says: blessed is the Creator who fashioned bee and Śyāma as a single form.

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Pada 275

Source

मधुकर! कासों कहि समझाऊँ? अंग अंग गुन गहे स्याम के, निर्गुन काहि गहाऊँ? कुटिल कटाच्छ बिकट सायक सम, लागत मरम न जाने। मरम गए उर फोरि पिछौं हैं पाछे पै अहटाने॥ घूमत रहत सँभारत नाहिंन, फेरि फेरि समुहाने। टूक टूक ह्वै रहे ढोर गहि पाछे पग न पराने॥ उठत कबंध जुद्ध जोधा ज्यों बाढ़त संमुख हेत। सूर स्याम अब अमृत-बृष्टि करि सींचि प्रान किन देत?

madhukara! kāsoṃ kahi samajhāū~? aṃga aṃga guna gahe syāma ke, nirguna kāhi gahāū~? kuṭila kaṭāccha bikaṭa sāyaka sama, lāgata marama na jāne| marama gae ura phori pichauṃ haiṃ pāche pai ahaṭāne|| ghūmata rahata sa~bhārata nāhiṃna, pheri pheri samuhāne| ṭūka ṭūka hvai rahe ḍhora gahi pāche paga na parāne|| uṭhata kabaṃdha juddha jodhā jyoṃ bār̤hata saṃmukha heta| sūra syāma aba amṛta-bṛṣṭi kari sīṃci prāna kina deta?

English translation

Fresh editorial translation from the भ्रमरगीत-सार authority

Bee, whom can I tell, and how can I explain? Every limb has seized one of Śyāma's qualities—where could I make it grasp the attributeless? His crooked sidelong glances strike like savage arrows; one does not feel the wound at first. They penetrate the vital point and split the breast, and only afterward does the shock arrive. We reel and cannot steady ourselves; again and again those arrows confront us. Though hacked into pieces, the body grips its burden and the feet will not turn back. Like headless warriors rising in battle, our love only advances toward him. Sūr asks: why does Śyāma not now rain nectar upon us and water these lives back into being?

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Pada 276

Source

मधुप! तुम देखियत हौ चित कारे। कालिंदीतट पार बसत हौ, सुनियत स्याम-सखा रे! मधुकर, चिहुर, भुजंग, कोकिला अवधिन हीं दिन टारे। वै अपने सुख ही के राजा तजियत यह अनुहारे॥ कपटी कुटिल निठुर हरि मोहीं दुख दै दूरि सिधारे। बारक बहुरि कबै आवैंगे नयनन साध निवारे॥ उनकी सुनै सो आप बिगोबै चित चोरत बटमारे। सूरदास प्रभु क्यों मन सानै सेवक करत निनारे

madhupa! tuma dekhiyata hau cita kāre| kāliṃdītaṭa pāra basata hau, suniyata syāma-sakhā re! madhukara, cihura, bhujaṃga, kokilā avadhina hīṃ dina ṭāre| vai apane sukha hī ke rājā tajiyata yaha anuhāre|| kapaṭī kuṭila niṭhura hari mohīṃ dukha dai dūri sidhāre| bāraka bahuri kabai āvaiṃge nayanana sādha nivāre|| unakī sunai so āpa bigobai cita corata baṭamāre| sūradāsa prabhu kyoṃ mana sānai sevaka karata nināre

English translation

Fresh editorial translation from the भ्रमरगीत-सार authority

Bee, you appear black at heart. You live across the bank of the Kālindī, and we hear that you are Śyāma's friend. Bee, dark lock of hair, serpent, and cuckoo pass their appointed days for their own pleasure alone; they are sovereigns of self-delight, and their likeness should be shunned. Deceitful, crooked, pitiless Hari gave me sorrow and departed far away. When will he return even once and fulfill the longing of these eyes? Whoever listens to him ruins herself; he is a highway robber who steals the heart. Sūrdās asks: why does the Lord distress the mind by casting his servant away?

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Pada 277

Source

मधुकर! को मधुबनहिं गयो? काके कहे सँदेस लै आए, किन लिखि लेख दयो? को बसुदेव-देवकीनंदन, को जदुकुलहि उजागर? तिनसों नहिं पहिचान हमारी, फिरि लै दीजो कागर॥ गोपीनाथ, राधिकाबल्लभ, जसुमति नँद कन्हाई। दिन प्रति दान लेत गोकुल में नूतन रीति चलाई॥ तुम तौ परम सयाने ऊधो! कहत और की औरै। सूरजदास पंथ के बहँके बोलत हौ ज्यों बौरे

madhukara! ko madhubanahiṃ gayo? kāke kahe sa~desa lai āe, kina likhi lekha dayo? ko basudeva-devakīnaṃdana, ko jadukulahi ujāgara? tinasoṃ nahiṃ pahicāna hamārī, phiri lai dījo kāgara|| gopīnātha, rādhikāballabha, jasumati na~da kanhāī| dina prati dāna leta gokula meṃ nūtana rīti calāī|| tuma tau parama sayāne ūdho! kahata aura kī aurai| sūrajadāsa paṃtha ke baha~ke bolata hau jyoṃ baure

English translation

Fresh editorial translation from the भ्रमरगीत-सार authority

Bee, who has gone to Mathurā? At whose word have you brought this message, and who wrote and gave you the letter? Who is this son of Vasudeva and Devakī, this glory of the Yadu clan? We have no acquaintance with him—take the paper back. We know the Lord of the gopīs, Rādhikā's beloved, Yaśodā and Nanda's Kanhā, who every day devised a new custom for demanding toll in Gokula. Uddhava, you are exceedingly wise, yet you call one thing by the name of another. Sūrdās says: you have wandered from the path and speak like a madman.

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Pada 278

Source

देखियत कालिंदी अति कारी। कहियो, पथिक! जाय हरि सों ज्यों भई बिरह-जुर-जारी॥ मनो पलिका पै परी धरनि धँसि तरँग तलफ तनु भारी। तटबारू उपचार-चूर मनो, स्वेद-प्रवाह पनारी॥ बिगलित कच कुस कास पुलिन मनो, पंक जु कज्जल सारी। भ्रमर मनो मति भ्रमत चहूं दिसि, फिरति है अंग दुखारी॥ निसिदिन चकई-व्याज बकत मुख, किन मानहुँ अनुहारी। सूरदास प्रभु जो जमुना-गति सो गति भई हमारी

dekhiyata kāliṃdī ati kārī| kahiyo, pathika! jāya hari soṃ jyoṃ bhaī biraha-jura-jārī|| mano palikā pai parī dharani dha~si tara~ga talapha tanu bhārī| taṭabārū upacāra-cūra mano, sveda-pravāha panārī|| bigalita kaca kusa kāsa pulina mano, paṃka ju kajjala sārī| bhramara mano mati bhramata cahūṃ disi, phirati hai aṃga dukhārī|| nisidina cakaī-vyāja bakata mukha, kina mānahu~ anuhārī| sūradāsa prabhu jo jamunā-gati so gati bhaī hamārī

English translation

Fresh editorial translation from the भ्रमरगीत-सार authority

The Kālindī appears exceedingly dark. Traveler, go tell Hari how she has become consumed by the fever of separation. It is as though she lies upon a little bed, sunk into the earth, while the waves are her heavy body writhing. The sand along her banks seems medicine ground to powder, and her streams the channels of pouring sweat. The loosened grasses and reeds upon the shore are disheveled hair, and the mud her blackened sari. The bees seem her reason wandering in every direction, circling her aching limbs. Night and day, through the pretext of the cakravākī's cry, her mouth keeps speaking—why not accept the likeness? Sūrdās says: whatever has become of the Yamunā has become of us.

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Pada 279

Source

सुनियत मुरली देखि लजात। दूरहि तें सिंहासन बैठे, सीस नाय मुसकात॥ सुरभी लिखी चित्र भीतिन पर तिनहिं देखि सकुचात। मोरपंख को बिजन बिलोकत बहरावत कहि बात॥ हमरी चरचा जो कोउ चालत, चालत ही चपि जात। सूरदास ब्रज भले बिसार्यो, दूध दही क्यों खात?

suniyata muralī dekhi lajāta| dūrahi teṃ siṃhāsana baiṭhe, sīsa nāya musakāta|| surabhī likhī citra bhītina para tinahiṃ dekhi sakucāta| morapaṃkha ko bijana bilokata baharāvata kahi bāta|| hamarī caracā jo kou cālata, cālata hī capi jāta| sūradāsa braja bhale bisāryo, dūdha dahī kyoṃ khāta?

English translation

Fresh editorial translation from the भ्रमरगीत-सार authority

We hear that when he hears the flute or sees it, he grows ashamed. Seated far away upon his throne, he bows his head and smiles. When he sees cows painted upon palace walls, he shrinks in embarrassment. Beholding a fan made of peacock feathers, he changes the subject to distract himself. If anyone begins to speak of us, he is crushed before the conversation can proceed. Sūrdās says: it was well indeed to forget Braj—but why then does he still eat milk and curds?

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Pada 280

Source

किधौं घन गरजत नहिं उन देसनि? किधौं वहि इंद्र हठिहि हरि बरज्यौ, दादुर खाए सेसनि। किधौं वहि देस बकन मग छाँड्यो, धर बूड़ति न प्रबेसनि। किधौं वहि देस मोर, चातक, पिक बधिकन बधे बिसेषनि॥ किधौं वहि देस बाल नहिं झूलति गावत गीत सहेसनि। पथिक न चलत सूर के प्रभु पै जासों कहौं सँदेसनि

kidhauṃ ghana garajata nahiṃ una desani? kidhauṃ vahi iṃdra haṭhihi hari barajyau, dādura khāe sesani| kidhauṃ vahi desa bakana maga chā~ḍyo, dhara būr̤ati na prabesani| kidhauṃ vahi desa mora, cātaka, pika badhikana badhe biseṣani|| kidhauṃ vahi desa bāla nahiṃ jhūlati gāvata gīta sahesani| pathika na calata sūra ke prabhu pai jāsoṃ kahauṃ sa~desani

English translation

Fresh editorial translation from the भ्रमरगीत-सार authority

Perhaps the clouds do not thunder in those lands. Perhaps stubborn Indra was restrained by Hari there, and serpents have eaten all the frogs. Perhaps in that country the herons have abandoned the roads, and the drowning earth permits no entrance. Perhaps hunters have specially slain every peacock, cātaka, and cuckoo there. Perhaps the girls of that land do not swing and sing their lovely songs. No traveler journeys to Sūr's Lord by whom I might send a message.

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Pada 281

Source

कोउ सखि नई चाह सुनि आई। यह ब्रजभूमि सकल सुरपति पै मदन मिलिक करि पाई। घन धावन, बगपाँति पटो सिर, बैरख तड़ित सुहाई॥ बोलत पिक चातक ऊँचे सुर, मनो मिलि देत दुहाई। दादुर मोर चकोर बदत सुक सुमन समीर सुहाई॥ चाहत कियो बास वृंदाबन, बिधि सों कहा बसाई? सीवँ न चापि सक्यो तब कोऊ, हुते बल कुँवर कन्हाई। अब सुनि सूर स्याम केहरि बिनु ये करिहैं ठकुराई

kou sakhi naī cāha suni āī| yaha brajabhūmi sakala surapati pai madana milika kari pāī| ghana dhāvana, bagapā~ti paṭo sira, bairakha tar̤ita suhāī|| bolata pika cātaka ū~ce sura, mano mili deta duhāī| dādura mora cakora badata suka sumana samīra suhāī|| cāhata kiyo bāsa vṛṃdābana, bidhi soṃ kahā basāī? sīva~ na cāpi sakyo taba koū, hute bala ku~vara kanhāī| aba suni sūra syāma kehari binu ye karihaiṃ ṭhakurāī

English translation

Fresh editorial translation from the भ्रमरगीत-सार authority

Companion, I hear that a new army of longing has arrived. The whole land of Braj has been won by the Rain-god in alliance with Kāma. The racing clouds are troops, the rows of cranes their white headcloths, and lovely lightning their streaming banner. Cuckoos and cātakas cry in high voices as though together raising a plea for battle. Frogs, peacocks, cakoras, and parrots call out, while flowers and fragrant wind adorn the field. This army seeks to make its encampment in Vṛndāvana—what bargain has it made with Fate? No one could press across its boundary when mighty Prince Kanhā was here. Now, Sūr says, hearing that the lion Śyāma is absent, they intend to establish their rule.

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Pada 282

Source

बरु ये बदराऊ बरसन आए। अपनी अवधि जानि, नँदनंदन! गरजि गगन घन छाए॥ सुनियत है सुरलोक बसत सखि, सेवक सदा पराए। चातक-कुल की पीर जानि कै तेउ तहाँ तें धाए॥ द्रुम किए हरित, हरषि बेली मिलि, दादुर मृतक जिवाए। छाए निबिड़ नीर तृन जहँ तहँ पँछिन हूँ प्रति भाए॥ समझति नहिं सखि! चूक आपनी बहुतै दिन हरि लाए। सूरदास स्वामी करुनामय मधुबन बसि बिसराए

baru ye badarāū barasana āe| apanī avadhi jāni, na~danaṃdana! garaji gagana ghana chāe|| suniyata hai suraloka basata sakhi, sevaka sadā parāe| cātaka-kula kī pīra jāni kai teu tahā~ teṃ dhāe|| druma kie harita, haraṣi belī mili, dādura mṛtaka jivāe| chāe nibir̤a nīra tṛna jaha~ taha~ pa~china hū~ prati bhāe|| samajhati nahiṃ sakhi! cūka āpanī bahutai dina hari lāe| sūradāsa svāmī karunāmaya madhubana basi bisarāe

English translation

Fresh editorial translation from the भ्रमरगीत-सार authority

At least these clouds have come to rain. Knowing their appointed season, they thunder and spread across the sky—unlike Nandanandana. Companion, we hear that they dwell in the world of the gods, forever serving others. Knowing the anguish of the cātaka clan, even they have hurried here from there. They have made the trees green; vines joyfully embrace, and dead frogs return to life. Dense water spreads everywhere, delighting even the birds. Hari does not understand his own fault, companion; he has delayed for far too many days. Sūrdās says: our compassionate Lord lives in Mathurā and has forgotten us.

Controlled against the proofread Wikisource Page-namespace transcription of the retained 1926 scan.

Pada 283

Source

परम बियोगिनि गोबिंद बिनु कैसे बितवैं दिन सावन के? हरित भूमि, भरे सलिल सरोवर, मिटे मग मोहन आवन के॥ पहिरे सुहाए सुबास सुहागिनि झुंडन झूलन गावन के। गरजत घुमरि घमंड दामिनी मदन धनुष धरि धावन के॥ दादुर मोर सोर सारँग पिक सोहैं निसा सूरमा वन के। सूरदास निसि कैसे निघटत त्रिगुन किए सिर रावन के

parama biyogini gobiṃda binu kaise bitavaiṃ dina sāvana ke? harita bhūmi, bhare salila sarovara, miṭe maga mohana āvana ke|| pahire suhāe subāsa suhāgini jhuṃḍana jhūlana gāvana ke| garajata ghumari ghamaṃḍa dāminī madana dhanuṣa dhari dhāvana ke|| dādura mora sora sāra~ga pika sohaiṃ nisā sūramā vana ke| sūradāsa nisi kaise nighaṭata triguna kie sira rāvana ke

English translation

Fresh editorial translation from the भ्रमरगीत-सार authority

Without Govinda, how can women in supreme separation pass the days of the monsoon? The earth is green and the lakes are full of water, while every road by which Mohana might return has disappeared. Fortunate married women dress beautifully, gather in groups, swing, and sing. Proud masses of cloud rumble; lightning rushes forth, bearing Kāma's bow. Frogs and peacocks roar, while cātakas and cuckoos shine like night-warriors of the forest. Sūrdās asks: how can this night ever diminish, made many times more terrible than the heads of Rāvaṇa?

Controlled against the proofread Wikisource Page-namespace transcription of the retained 1926 scan.

Pada 284

Source

हमारे माई! मोरउ बैर परे। घन गरजे बरजे नहिं मानत त्यों त्यों रटत खरे। करि एक ठौर बीनि इनके पंख मोहन सीस धरे। याही तें हम ही को मारत, हरि ही ढीठ करे॥ कह जानिए कौन गुन, सखि री! हम सों रहत अरे। सूरदास परदेस बसत हरि, ये बन तें न टरे

hamāre māī! morau baira pare| ghana garaje baraje nahiṃ mānata tyoṃ tyoṃ raṭata khare| kari eka ṭhaura bīni inake paṃkha mohana sīsa dhare| yāhī teṃ hama hī ko mārata, hari hī ḍhīṭha kare|| kaha jānie kauna guna, sakhi rī! hama soṃ rahata are| sūradāsa paradesa basata hari, ye bana teṃ na ṭare

English translation

Fresh editorial translation from the भ्रमरगीत-सार authority

Mother, even the peacocks have become my enemies. The clouds thunder; heedless of every prohibition, the peacocks cry more insistently still. Mohana once gathered their feathers in one place and wore them upon his head. For that reason they strike at us alone, made insolent by Hari himself. Companion, who knows what virtue they see, that they remain so hostile toward us? Sūrdās says: Hari lives in a foreign land, yet these birds will not leave the forest.

Controlled against the proofread Wikisource Page-namespace transcription of the retained 1926 scan.

Pada 285

Source

सखी री! हरिहि दोष जनि देहु। जातें इते मान दुख पैयत हमरेहि कपट सनेहु॥ विद्यमान अपने इन नैनन्ह सूनो देखति गेहु। तदपि सूल-ब्रजनाथ-बिरह तें भिदि न होत बड़ बेहु॥ कहि कहि कथा-पुरातन ऊधो! अब तुम अंत न लेहु। सूरदास तन तो यों ह्वै है ज्यों फिरि फागुन मेहु

sakhī rī! harihi doṣa jani dehu| jāteṃ ite māna dukha paiyata hamarehi kapaṭa sanehu|| vidyamāna apane ina nainanha sūno dekhati gehu| tadapi sūla-brajanātha-biraha teṃ bhidi na hota bar̤a behu|| kahi kahi kathā-purātana ūdho! aba tuma aṃta na lehu| sūradāsa tana to yoṃ hvai hai jyoṃ phiri phāguna mehu

English translation

Fresh editorial translation from the भ्रमरगीत-सार authority

Companion, do not blame Hari. That we suffer such grief and wounded pride comes from the deception of our own love. With these very eyes still present, I see my own house empty. Even so, the great bamboo of the heart does not split beneath the thorn of separation from the Lord of Braj. Uddhava, stop taking our measure by repeating ancient tales again and again. Sūrdās says: the body will soon be scattered like rain falling out of season in Phālguna.

Controlled against the proofread Wikisource Page-namespace transcription of the retained 1926 scan.