Chapter Eight: Literature of the Rasika Tradition in Hindi

Play Holi, Raghurai, with Sita, the joy-giving Lady.
Royal youth, do not use such force; give her sweetness and delight.
Rejoice at heart, O stealer of hearts, and drink your fill of love while the rasika river of rasa rises in flood.
Smear red powder upon her rosy cheeks and, smiling, give her a kiss.

Her collyrium-darkened eyes delight the stainless lover’s mind and shame lotus and wagtail alike.
Dance in ever-new steps, accomplished lover, singing your beloved’s virtues.
Sit with Sita, Lord, says Rasrangmani, and reveal your face to increase our bliss.

Sita and Rama have adorned themselves entirely in flowers.
Beneath a flower bungalow the Couple shine, filled with joy; their hearts blossom, they smile, and their loving eyes overflow.
Their ornaments and garments are flowers; a floral crescent and crown adorn them, and flowers are woven through the curls that frame their lovely faces.
Sita holds a cluster of flowers to her breast while her beloved takes up a flower-bow; seeing them, each lives through the ever-new splendour of the other.

The bowers bloom, fountains of fragrant water flow, and cleverly fashioned jets fall cool as showers of flowers.
The gods rain excellent blossoms; rejoicing, Rasrangmani beholds Sita-Rama’s beauty and makes his eyes fruitful.

Sita-Rama, dwell within my eyes:
Janaka’s fair daughter and beautiful, dark Raghubar.
Adorned from toenails to crown in garments and ornaments, they possess the beauty of millions of Ratis and Love-gods.
Lakshman holds the parasol, while Bharat and Shatrughna stand to right and left with twin fly-whisks.

Hanuman waves the fan, and the entire lovely retinue shines in excellence.
The lotus-eyed Couple smile; Rasrangmani makes their countenances his home.

Sita and Raghuraj shine today.
The fair and dark forms sit upon the throne, crowned heads of the lineages of Nimi and Raghu.
Bharat and Shatrughna hold fly-whisks on the two sides, while Lakshman stands beneath the splendid parasol.
Hanuman waves the fan; Angad holds the staff, and their glorious fame resounds.

Vibhishan, Sugriva, and the others stand bearing bow, arrows, sword, shield, and other royal emblems.
Crying “Victory! Victory!” and singing their praise, says Rasrangmani, the gods shower lovely flowers upon them.

Rama and Sita shine as fish in the waters of rasa.
Crowns adorn both heads, and makara-shaped earrings swell with beauty.
The companions have artfully painted fish designs upon their delicate cheeks;
Together with their darting eyes, twelve fishes appear plainly before us.

Dressed alike today, they possess a fresh beauty upon which I would sacrifice myself.
Beholding them, the retinue is steeped in love and Rasrammani becomes absorbed in happiness.