Chapter Eight: Literature of the Rasika Tradition in Hindi

Here a companion appears amid the bower, there a bower amid the companions;
Here Sita stands among her companions, and there Rama is enclosed within Sita.
It is as though lightning flashes somewhere within a cloud,
And elsewhere the dark cloud shines from within the lightning.

They kiss the Beloved’s face, whirl about intoxicated,
And sway fearlessly in Hari’s arms, putting celestial beauties to shame.
Snatching a bracelet from the Beloved’s wrist, they quickly put it on;
Overcome by affection, they place rings upon his fingers.

They bow, start back, blink, embrace, sway, and gather close;
They gaze, yearn, playfully rebuke, laugh, and exult together.
They watch, dispute, hide, become still, dance, and seize one another;
They encircle, run, catch hold, and refuse to go anywhere else.

Here they cling, there they pounce; many slip, then spring completely aside.
With Janaka’s daughter he performs this beautiful recreation.
Beholding Raghunandan amid the auspicious company of companions,
Raghuraj sacrifices himself again and again.

Friend, my Raghubar lavishes conjugal affection upon me.
He takes flowers and fashions a forest garland, roaming close beside me.
Seeing my reflection within the mirror, he abandons his fascination with the mere image.
Sri Raghuraj says: to turn away from such a beloved, dearer than life, would be supreme misfortune.

Friend, Raghubar revels in the spring.
At day’s end on the bank of the Sarayu, a cool, gentle, fragrant breeze blows.
Earrings sway upon his spotless cheeks and spread their radiance everywhere,
As though Love’s own image had emerged before him from the mirror of Love.

Seated upon a golden throne, splendid in yellow cloth, he humbles the pride of a fresh raincloud.
He appears like an emerald peak upon a golden mountain, crowned by a brilliance that scatters darkness.
The lustre of Janaka’s daughter’s face fills the countenance of her beloved;
The blue radiance of Raghubar’s face lends a greenish glow to Janaka’s daughter.

Driven by the wind, minute drops of water settle upon their bodies and awaken love.
It is as though the Sarayu, knowing that spring has come, deliberately sprinkles Rama.
In an immense bower formed from flowering mango trees, bees hum;
Amid the bliss-filled company of companions, Raghuraj delights Sri Raghuraj.