LIII.
Krishna: The night is late, the fair one timorous and fearful:
When will she of the olifant gait be here?
The path is filled with dreadful snakes,
How many dangers do her path beset, and she with feet so tender!
To the feet of Providence I trust her,
Success attend the Beauty's tryst!
The sky is black, the earth is sodden,—
My heart is anxious for her danger.
Heavy the darkness in every airt,—
Her feet may slip, she cannot find the path:
Her glance beguiles each living thing
Lakshmī comes in human form!
Says Vidyāpati the poet:
The maid enamoured yields to none but Love.
LIV.
Sakhī: She veils her face, that lady shene,—
They tell the king: The moon is stolen.
O lovely lover, how may you not be seen
By watchmen keeping watch in every house?
Let not your smile flash out, sweet-face,
Murmur but soft and low the music of your words,—
For near your lips are lustrous teeth.
As near the vermeil mark is set a pearl.
Hearken, hearken, to my words of counsel,
Even in dreams may nothing hinder:
The moon differs from you but in her spots,
For she is stained, and you are stainless.
Ha! Rājā Shivasimha and Lakshmī Dev,
Says Vidyāpati: My heart is fearless.