Come, women, let us go see Panduranga at the sandy riverbank, where the communal feast is spread and the cowherd boys crowd all around. In delight they share morsels from each other's mouths, without regard for young or old, all of them together. They shout and trumpet, blowing flutes and horns, placing Hari in the center of their circle. Men and women and all creatures are enchanted, forgetting their bodily awareness with no doubt in their hearts. A rain of flowers falls, a throng of lamps is waved, and garlands of tulsi are placed around his neck. Says Tuka, he is the king of the Yadavas, Kanho who steals the hearts of the gopis, and the mind rejoices at the sight of him.