Chapter Eight: Literature of the Rasika Tradition in Hindi

The two remain joyfully together.
Dasharatha’s son and Janaka’s daughter touch one another and hold one another’s arms.
Their fair and dark affection is so true that Rati and Cupid are swept away in the ocean of their beauty.
Baijnath says: the loveliness of their two bodies appears as though adornment itself had been seized by love.

The night has passed and at dawn the beloved Pair awake; the red glow destroys the sky’s net of darkness.
Lotuses bloom across the lake and garlands of bees take flight; the stars lose their light while the cakavī remains thirsty for her mate.
Sita and her beloved shine upon the couch, still overcome by languor—what maidservant, seeing that beauty which defeats Rati and Love, could remain unmoved?
Yawning, they meet again; the pendant swings, smooth intoxicated curls loosen, and the moonlike face flashes within Love’s snare.
Companions wash the faces with spotless water, wipe them gently with clean cloth, and stand all around bearing every auspicious article of enjoyment.
They apply fragrant paste and collyrium, arrange garments and ornaments, and sacrifice wealth and life, each woman remaining thirsty with hope.
Blue and yellow, dark and fair, with gold-worked cloth, lotus eyes, earrings, cloud-dark locks, sunlike jewel, peacock plume, and crown—they radiate splendour.
Baijnath prays that together with the entire blessed retinue he may remain within this discipline of affection, receiving pure love and beauty joined with śṛṅgāra.

Look toward me, my dear beloved youth.
Beholding the creation of your beauty, I sacrifice the body; seeing your gait, I sacrifice the mind.
Beholding your face, joyously helpless, I gave body, mind, and wealth for all time.
Day and night I long for the sweetness of your form; a single glance makes me fulfilled.
Show mercy, beloved; do not inflict anguish. Having taken my arm, you must preserve me.
Baijnath’s two eyes thirst for the immense beauty of Raghunandan.

The colourful Pair shine filled with colour.
The dark-and-fair beloveds meet in such captivating beauty that every comparison disappears.
Dasharatha’s son and Janaka’s daughter hold one another by shoulder and arm.
They are emerald and crystal, tamala and moonlight, cloud and lightning drawn close together.
It seems a single form sits there, putting every familiar distinction to shame.
Baijnath and the companions gaze continually, unable to blink day or night.

My eyes, beloved, desire your beauty.
As the cakora desires the moon, the peacock the cloud, lightning its raincloud, and the fish water,
My ears desire your excellent fame, my mouth to sing your deeds, and my heart your form.
Your refuge alone is my path; I desire nothing else.
Rama, your beloved sweetness never allows my eyes to become sated—