Krishna: I could not see her clearly:
Like a vine of lightning flashing from a wreath
of cloud,
She plunged an arrow in my heart.
Half the wimple had slipped, half was her face in smiles.
Half a wave in her eyes:
Half of her bosom I saw, half of the wimple filling,—
Love consumes me ever since.
Bright was her body withal, and golden cups her breasts.
Her bodice, Love transformed:
My wits were routed,— meseems this snare
Was set by Kāmadev.
Pearl-teeth arow her lips did meet.
That murmured gentle words.
Vidyāpati says: Grief haunts my heart:
I saw her indeed, but hope was not sated.
IX.
Krishna: Beholding that my love was at her bath,
She pierced my heart with arrows five,—
The stream of water pouring from her tresses.
Was her moon-face weeping, frighted by their gloom.
The wet cloth clung upon her corse,—
So might Kāma shake a hermit's heart!
Twin breasts were cakravākas sweet.
United by the gods upon the self-same shore,—
Caged in the prison of her arms.
Lest they should fly away in fear.
Vidyāpati, the poet, sings:
The precious maid her lover meets!
X.
Krishna: A joyous day this day for me!
I saw my love when she was bathing,
A stream of water pouring from her hair,—
The clouds were showering strings of pearls!