Chapter Eight: Literature of the Rasika Tradition in Hindi

Wherever one turns, pain-giving clouds of separation have spread; the separated woman stands alone in thought.
Yugalananyasharan says: without Sita’s beloved, the suffering is indescribable and boundless.

The rainy season showers rasa
and settles its cry of anguish within the separated heart.
Moment by moment it makes her yearn for her beloved’s sweet, enchanting form.
Thunder murmurs softly, singing his virtues and revealing his glory under the guise of clouds.
Lightning flashes and displays the burning, doubling the heart’s pain.
Yugalananyasharan says: the splendour of Sita and her Beloved deceives even the clever deceiver.

My awareness has attached itself to no one but the Beloved.
Now even the house no longer pleases me, friend.
Exhilaration surges within this pauper’s heart, and longing for his vision awakens in the mind.
Every worldly inclination and conversation, moving or unmoving, becomes a brand of pain upon the heart.
Yugalananyasharan says: let me meet Siyavallabha, the beloved of every lover of beauty.

Make your dwelling upon the bank of the Sarayu.
Sound the banner-drum of your own love.
Seeing the lovely lady, awaken longing.
Adorn yourself with refuge in guru and saints.
Fix the eyes in that colour and taste.
Wash away the false understanding of here and there.
Become absorbed in affection for Sita and Shyama.
Sing their virtues and Name forever.
Meditate upon the form that steals the heart.
Let beautiful supreme bliss be your doctrine.
Abandon the grief of endless argument.
Go to the city of equanimous happiness.
Do not crave anything elsewhere; remain exclusive.

How has my heart become so drenched?
My Lord’s skilful, deceptive play has turned my life into a dark night.
The dark treasure Rama, abode of happiness praised by the Vedas, remains forever near.
Yet without seeing and touching him, alas, the lamp of the heart grows more and more restless.
The Beloved has vowed to purify those who take refuge; his words are the very home of Sita’s joy.
Yugalananya says: without attaining my husband, this body becomes a cruel blade, though once so dear.