He has blocked the path and grabbed the hem of my garment. Pay me my dues first, then go your way. She says: let go, step back. Now that you have met me at the source, the game of fate has begun and these journeys are done. She shakes free of his hand; he seizes another's garment. The others too start grappling with his hands. We have come and gone many times; we do not even know if he is fair or dark. Step aside, cowherd boy, what are you saying? We are the rightful ones here; you stole from us before, and now that we have caught on, you must answer for what you did. They speak, laughing: we are married women living in our in-laws' homes. Why do you grab at us from afar? Say something proper. In vain you clutch the garments of other men's wives. If their husbands find out, neither you nor we will be spared. But he has pierced their hearts and will not let those women go; wherever the secret is, he holds fast. Those who fell into his hands were lost even in the marketplace. The women who mingled with dark-skinned Krishna never turned back. Says Tuka, do not grieve in vain. This was written in your own destiny, and today it has ripened.