आजु बन्यो है बिपिन देखो, राम धीर। मानो खेलत फागु मुद मदनबीर॥ बट, बकुल, कंदब, पनस, रसाल। कुसुमित तरु-निकर कुरब-तमाल॥ मानो बिबिध बेष धरे छैल-जूथ। बिच बीच लता ललना-बरूथ॥ पनवानक निरझर, अलि उपंग। बोलत पारावत मानो डफ-मृदंग॥ गायक शुक-कोकिल, झिल्लि ताल। नाचत बहु भाँति बरहि मराल॥ मलयानिल सीतल, सुरभि, मंद। बह सहित सुमन-रस रेनु बूंद॥ मनु छिरकत फिरत सबनि सुरंग। भ्राजत उदार लीला अनंग॥ क्रीडत जीते सुर-असुर-नाग। हठि सिद्ध-मुनिनके पंथ लाग॥ कह तुलसिदास, तेहि छाड़ मैन। जेहि राख राम राजीव नैन॥
Steadfast Rāma, behold how the forest has arrayed itself today—it seems the valiant Lord of Love is joyfully playing Holī. Banyans, bakulas, kadambas, jackfruit trees, mangoes, kurabakas, and tamālas stand in flower, like companies of dandies in varied dress with hosts of vine-women among them. Waterfalls are great drums and bees are musical instruments; calling pigeons sound like frame-drums and mṛdaṅgas, parrots and cuckoos are singers, cicadas keep the beat, and peacocks and swans dance in many ways. The cool, fragrant, gentle Malaya breeze carries drops of flower nectar and pollen, as though the graciously playful bodiless Kāma roamed sprinkling beautiful color over everyone. In sport he has conquered gods, demons, and serpents and stubbornly obstructs the paths of siddhas and sages. Tulsīdāsa says Kāma leaves untouched only the one whom lotus-eyed Rāma protects.