CXXXII.
Rādhā: The hurt that the Lord of the Seasons erstwhile did me,
All has departed at sight of Hari's face!
All hopes and desires that were in my heart,
All are achieved in my Lover's kindness.
When I lay in His arms every hair of my body was glad,
In the dew of His lips my grieving melted away:
Fate has fulfilled the hope of all the days of my life,—
From bending my eyes upon Him I know no rest.
Vidyāpati says: There is grief at an end,
No sickness remains when the cure has been found.
CXXXIII.
Sakhī: Fate is now friendly for ever more!
Each on the other's countenance gazing, twain are rapt—
Each in the other's arms the other enfolds—
Twain are the mouths contented each with the nectar of other's lips.
Twain are the bodies a-tremble at Madan's behest,
The jingle of jewels is heard again in the house!
What more should I say, Vidyāpati asks:
So as their love is, so is their loving.