Chapter Eight: Literature of the Rasika Tradition in Hindi

The crow speaks sweet words and my veil flutters, friend.
I shall climb the high terrace and lower the rope, taking the form of a fair water-carrier.
I shall feed my beloved five kinds of delicacies, and at night prepare the couch on every side.
Shyam Sakhe says: I shall take him to the bed, lie beside him, and unite with him like a black bee.

My veil is becoming drenched, O prince.
Raindrops fall softly upon it, yet I still fear my mother-in-law and husband’s sister.
Shyam Sakhe, I have fallen under the sway of your rasa; household work concerns me no longer.

His form entered and took possession of my heart when I beheld it.
Father, arrange my marriage to darling King Raghubar!
My life has become so entangled with him that no effort can disentangle it.
Shyam Sakhe, arrange my wedding despite what the people of the world may think.

Friend, without my beloved sleep does not please me.
One moment passes in the courtyard, one in the lane, one upon the platform; each watch of night lasts an age.
The mass of the moon’s cool rays is a blazing fire, while the cloud seems to pour down flame.
Shyam Sakhe, when will that day come when I meet my beloved and clasp him to my neck?

Friend, I slept beside my beloved last night, after spending the whole night filled with separation.
In the pleasure forest, beneath cooling shade, water-born flowers bloomed.
The lovely couch awakened rasa, while a delightful eastern breeze blew.
He adorned my entire body from toenails to crown with ornaments of flowers.
Shyam Sakhe says: my colourful lord of Ayodhya laughed and laughed as he asked me intimate questions.

Without Shyam, neither home nor sacred abode pleases me.
Day by day my body grows thin, and the repetition of “Sita-Rama” has possessed me.
When shall I meet my tender, loving beloved? Every watch passes like an age.
Shyam Sakhe, bring about my meeting with him, and I shall become the woman at his left.

Beloved, my hope rests upon you alone.
O moon of Kosala, hear this one petition of mine.
You are the ocean and I the river; you are husband and I am wife.
You are day and I am night; you are the moon and I the cakora bird.
You are the hero and I the heroine—bind our garments together as a wedded Pair.
Relationship with you alone is true; every other worldly love is false.
Shyam Sakhe says: accept me, forgetting all my faults.