Chapter Eight: Literature of the Rasika Tradition in Hindi

The fresh and beautiful Couple awaken from sleep.
I shall try to tell a little of their indescribably lovely appearance.
Fair and dark have exchanged their hues: a dark tint spreads upon the fair body, and a fair tint upon the dark.
Collyrium from the eyes shines upon the lips, while saffron from her breasts clings to her lover’s chest.
Hair-knots and folds of cloth lie disordered, and the lovely nose-ring twists and sways.
Victorious heroes of Love’s battle, their eyes roll with a reddish glow.
Kripanivas says: the sportive Sita Ju smiles gently at her Beloved.

At dawn her beauty delights the beloved’s heart.
Filled with every rasa and swelling with exhilaration, she laughingly awakens her Beloved.
She beautifies his khañjana-bird eyes with collyrium and bathes his garments in fragrance.
Sitting beside him in her lovely bodice, she steadies her breasts with her hands.
She wipes the face still moist with the nectar of Love, and her beloved’s affection increases.
She raises the slightly wilted breast-buds, making her fingers snap as a yawn escapes her.
She arranges her curls, lifts her eyelids, and languidly sets every article in order.
In playful delight upon her lover’s lap, she suddenly stretches every limb.
Opening her eyes, she speaks to the companions and smiles at her Beloved.
Kripanivas says: the lovely Sri Jānaki draws her dear lover to her heart.

Friend, something of this cannot be spoken.
Whenever I look, the eager Beloved pleads “Ah, have mercy!” at every moment.
That libertine of rasa cups me in his arms and speaks sweet words.
What passed between us cannot be grasped even in thought; its tenderness sinks into the heart’s depths.
I know happiness through pain and pain through happiness, while the Beloved gazes beseechingly.
Kripanivas says: the sportive lady smiles mischievously beneath the cover of her veil.

There is something indescribable in the story of today.
Smiling, my beloved tugged open the fastening of my bodice and spoke without a trace of shame.
He spoke affectionately, devised one expedient after another, and sang entreaties to accomplish his desire.
Fearlessly taking me upon his lap, that clever lover overcame every protesting “Ah!”
He filled his arms with me; though I pushed him away again and again, my husband nourished the sovereign Love.
Kripanivas says: delight in divine play arose, and I became a member of Love’s assembly.

The lover’s eyes are entangled in his beloved’s beauty, and Sita’s eyes cling to the beauty of her lover.
They are like fish in a lake of beauty, absorbed in the happiness of their own dwelling—