Chapter Eight: Literature of the Rasika Tradition in Hindi

All the companions, says Sri Raghuraj, are intoxicated with delight;
Not one of them permits her eyelids to close.

Dear friend, today my beloved swings upon a golden swing in the pleasure palace.
Clouds gather and billow on every side, pouring down rain.
The companions joyfully sing song after song of Sawan, while the peacocks’ lovely cries resound through the forest.
Crimson garments flutter, spilling their beauty abroad;
Their bodies sway and a festival of rasa arises whenever a gust of wind strikes.
Sri Raghuraj says: delightful is the monsoon—
Rich with tender love, it makes Janaka’s young daughter and Ayodhya’s young prince overflow with rasa.

Come, even if you become drenched!
Friends, let everyone come to the bank of the Sarayu to swing beneath the kadamba tree.
The clouds gently, gently rain their drops, which trickle from crimson cloth.
He shields himself beneath his scarf, and she beneath the edge of her veil.
Shower after shower strikes the earth; moment by moment their beauty repeatedly flashes through the directions.
The heart is never sated, however often it beholds the faces of Sita and Raghunandan.
On this delightful monsoon evening the companions sing every song of Sawan.
Lovely is the peacocks’ clamour on every side, thrilling Sita with joy.
The prince of Kosala and Janaka’s cherished, incomparable daughter make a beautiful Pair.
May they dwell forever in the heart of their servant Krishna—this is my longing.

Raghubar, what power there is in your gaze!
Whoever receives it even once loses all awareness of the body.
O Lord of Ayodhya, dressed as a bridegroom, wander from lane to lane.
Sri Raghuraj says: the women of Janakpur peer through the latticed windows, utterly captivated.

Darling, do not pass beyond the shelter of my eyes!
A single blink without your vision seems an age and strikes like a thunderbolt.
You do not understand another’s pain—this is a fault in your nature.
Sri Raghuraj says: O beloved of Videha’s daughter, abandon your boundless cruelty.

My heart has become fastened to darling Rama.
Now I shall go and meet him by force, no matter who tries to restrain me.
His form is dark, his eyes are tinged with red, and curling locks fall across his face.
Friend, when I beheld Raghuraj today, the bolt securing my modesty snapped apart.