Chapter Eight: Literature of the Rasika Tradition in Hindi

My eyes are cakora birds, my heart a bee, and my tongue a cātaka repeating the Name.
When shall I behold beloved and lover, the abodes of blissful recreation?

Will that day ever come when I am beside beloved and lover
And gaze upon them with feeling, as the cakora gazes upon the moon?

My bee-like heart is greedy for the sweetness of their lotus feet.
Without union it remains distraught; separation’s anguish has made the body thin.

O Sri Sita, my sovereign Lady! My tongue repeats your excellent Name.
I have become like a cātaka bird—hear me, abode of compassion.

Your lovely image dwells within my two eyes like fish within the ocean.
Do not separate it from them, for you are supremely wise.

A fish parted from its beloved water meets with death;
Seeing that I have reached the same condition, show mercy, Raghubir.

Wherever I look in the world, I see sweetness and beautiful forms.
Yet the body becomes distraught without beholding your incomparable form.

Reveal that matchless form and give my eyes a Lord.
Though a protector exists, why do you act so? Grant me the company of the beloved Pair.

Hearing the cuckoo’s gentle call, a pang rises in my heart.
Sobbing and sobbing, I am wasting away—forgive my faults now.

I am filled entirely with defects, while you are a treasury of virtues.
Be pleased through your own virtues, remembering the power of your gracious renown.

Beholding a peahen dance, separation torments me.
Seeing the fine radiance of the peacock’s neck and body, my mind mistakes it for the beloved’s arms.

When will you dispel this delusion, O youthful prince?
When shall I see the fair-and-dark thieves of consciousness with arms about one another’s necks?

The king’s daughter and royal prince see that worldly custom prevails.
Will you ever meet with me too, as people ordinarily meet one another?

Everyone in the world enjoys happiness day and night with their own companions;
My suffering increases daily, while you remember me for neither an instant nor a moment.

O abode of compassion toward one such as me, I possess not a single effective means.
My sole support, like the cātaka bird’s, is the hope of your gracious sidelong glance.