V.
Krishna: Fair-face, red brow-spot, there-behind the heavy jet-black hair—
As if the sun and moon together rising left the night behind.
Ah damsel fair! with what and what devoted care,
Has Nature given to you the utmost beauty of the moon.
A grass green bodice binds your breasts, a glimpse is only seen;
So jealously you cover them,—but never snow may hide the hills!
Dark sūrm decks your curving restless eyes.
As if the bees would rest their weight upon some wind-bent lotus.
Hearken, young thing, says Vidyāpati; these charms, you know them all,—
Witness be Rājā Shivasimha Rūpanārāyana and Lakshmī Devī.
VI.
Krishna: She left the shrine at cowdust-time, passing gliding
Like a flash of lightning mated with a fresh cloud.
Tender of age she was, a garland deftly woven:
A glimpse could not content my hope, but Love's fire fiercer fanned.
Bright was her body, shining under wimple with the shene of gold:
Long locks, small middle, sidelong-glancing eyes.
And softly smiling, pierced me with the arrows of her eyes,—
Lord of the Five Gaurs, live for ever, says Vidyāpati!
VII.
Krishna: Laughing, talking, milk-white girl.
Nectar-showering as autumn moon at full:
Jewel of beauty surpassing, passing before me,
Gainly of gait as olifant-king.
Small was her middle as any lion's, her frail frame breaking
With the burden of the honey-apples of her breasts.
Her lovely eyes shone white beside the sūrm that dyed them.
Bees, as it were, mistaking them for spotless water-lilies.
Says Vidyapati: The Lord of lovers
Sorely tholes the sight of Radha's loveliness.