SARGA THE SEVENTH.
VIPRALABDHAVARNANE NAGARANARAYANO.
KRISHNA SUPPOSED FALSE.
Meantime the moon, the rolling moon, clomb high,
And over all Vrindávana it shone;
The moon which on the front of gentle night
Gleams like the chundun-mark on beauty's brow;
The conscious moon which hath its silver face
Marred with the shame of lighting earthly loves:
And while the round white lamp of earth rose higher,
And still he tarried, Radha, petulant,
Sang soft impatience and half-earnest fears:
(What follows is to the Music Mâlava and the Mode Yati.)
'Tis time!—he comes not!—will he come?
Can he leave me thus to pine?
Yami hê kam sharanam!
Ah! what refuge then is mine?
For his sake I sought the wood,
Threaded dark and devious ways;
Yami hê kam sharanam!
Can it be Krishna betrays?
Let me die then, and forget
Anguish, patience, hope, and fear;
Yami hê kam sharanam!
Ah, why have I held him dear?