Chapter Eight: Literature of the Rasika Tradition in Hindi

Pearls upon their noses ripple from side to side, and the pearl of the nose-ring sways.
They wander with arms about one another’s necks—behold this vision without cease.

Through contact with their limbs, ornaments themselves become adorned.
Fragrance acquires fragrance, and even pearls gain a new lustre.
Beauty itself obtains beauty through association with their limbs;
Beholding them, Brahma, Hari, Hara, Saraswati, Lakshmi, and Uma stand in reverence.
At the feet of that Sita and Sita’s beloved, Dasharathanath bows again and again;
Taking the dust of the Couple’s feet, he applies it between his two eyes.
The gods churned the ocean of nectar and went in search of the pearl of those feet;
Attaining a fortune to match it, the poet has threaded his own words into the necklace.
Brahma, Hari, and Hara abandon every other task and continue chanting his name;
Yet that Raghubar forever remembers Sita’s name within his heart.

Among queens, Sita Ji is the great empress; all the others are merely subordinate ladies.
Indrani and Brahmani stand before her with raised brows and folded hands.
Gauri carefully prepares betel, while Lakshmi comes to feed it to her.
The eight supernatural powers stand with folded hands, and the nine treasures seem to have sold themselves into her service.
Sovereignty over millions of universes is entangled in every hair of her body.
Maya, who makes everyone drink from a single landing-place,
Repeatedly honours her and longs for her compassion.
Without Sita, even that power which pervades every vessel cannot stir so much as a leaf.
The world knows Rama’s beloved as the chosen deity of saintly people.

The sacred forest delights the heart from within.
Its nature cannot be spoken; some fortunate soul beholds it and relishes its rasa.
The many-coloured flowers are suffused with Sita, and the bees increase one’s love.
Looking into the bower, it seems that Sita herself is approaching.
Sometimes a saffron garment appears, sometimes a veil, and sometimes blue cloth ripples.
At other times a fragrant, crimson garment reveals its beauty among the bowers.
For the sake of this vision people undertake recitation and austerity, abandon their homes, and shave their heads.
Yet when one beholds the forest, that very deity enters the heart without effort.

Victory to Sita, whose complexion is lightning; victory to Rama, whose complexion is the raincloud.
Victory to Sita, destroyer of Rati’s pride; victory to Rama, conqueror of Rati’s lord.