CXXXIV.
Sakhī: Rare was that meeting of one with the other,
The grief of disunion vanished afar:
He has taken her hand and put her down on the painted seat,
The jewel-Shyāma disports with the jewel-damsel!
In many wise playing with diverse delights,
The bee, as it were, with the lotus delaying:
Eyes upon eyes and face upon face,
A chorus of twain entranced by each other's perfections!
Vidyāpati says: The Lover is rapt,
The Love-thief has conquered the Triple Worlds!
CXXXV.
Rādhā: A mirror in hand, a flower in my hair,
Sūrm of my eyes, tāmbūl of my mouth,
Musk on my breast, a necklace about my throat,
All the gear on my body, the life of my house.
Wings to the bird, and water to fish,
Life of my life—I know Thou art these—
But tell me, O Mādhav, what art Thou in sooth?
Avers Vidyāpati: Each is both.
CXXXVI.
Rādhā: What would you ask of my feelings, my dear,—
Can I expound such love and affection
As are moment by moment transformed?
From the day of my birth I have seen His beauty,
And yet are my eyes unsatisfied:
My ears have continually heard His honeyed speech,
But I have not attained the path of audition.
Many a night have I passed in play,
And never have learnt what is dalliance:
Myriad aeons I held Him close to my heart,
And yet no rest has reached that heart.
How many a one tormented and passion-tost
I have seen—without seeing!
Vidyāpati says: For your heart's ease
You have met with One who is nonpareil.