Chapter Eight: Literature of the Rasika Tradition in Hindi

The dark and fair limbs of the two are captivating, his yellow cloth beside her crimson garments.
Beholding their beauty, Baijnath sacrifices himself while the companions sing and mark the rhythm.

Without the beloved, how can my mind maintain courage?
Without beholding the beauty of Shyam’s face, tears pour from my eyes.
When will dawn come and reveal that face? My heart finds no repose.
Baijnath, someone unite me with Shyam and remove the burning within my breast.

I suffer a profound pain of love, and nothing else pleases me.
Without beholding Raghubir’s beauty, no composure comes.
His dark body is the rain-bearing cloud and his yellow garment lightning.
A hundred million Cupids sacrifice themselves to his face, the abode of happiness.
A golden crown set with gems shines upon his head, together with a radiant forehead mark.
Seeing the enchanting flash of his curls, the eyes refuse to blink.
Earrings adorn his ears; his great eyes are lightly darkened with collyrium, and I sacrifice myself to the pure coral of his lips.
His immense arms bear ornaments, bow, and arrows; a quiver is fastened at his waist above lovely cloth, and his beauty steals Love’s pride.
His moonlike face smiles sweetly and strikes with arrows of separation.
Baijnath now sacrifices himself—beloved, grant your vision.

Longing for Raghunandan has seized my consciousness.
Friend, nothing else pleases me.
My condition, image, and hope have become a cakora fixed upon the incomparable moon-face I once beheld.
Seeing that beauty I became steeped in it; fresh affection awoke and every worldly shame fled.
My eyes will not emerge after plunging into the ocean of Shyam’s body.
The body trembles and understanding turns confused, like a serpent overwhelmed upon seeing its coveted treasure.
Baijnath can no longer escape: the mind has flown into sweetness and become trapped like a fly in honey.

At dawn Rama and Sita appear beautifully adorned.
A crown rests upon his head and a lovely moon ornament upon hers; earrings grace their ears.
Her veil and his yellow garment shine upon their fair and dark bodies.
Baijnath says their beauty cannot be spoken; hundreds of Ratis and Cupids are ashamed.

Rama and Sita are languid within the sleeping pavilion.
Their eyes are drowsy and filled with weariness; they sway and repeatedly bend toward one another.
The beauty of their two moonlike faces makes lotuses appear withered.
Baijnath says: how can that beauty be described? Even Rati and Cupid are humbled upon seeing it.