The shirīsh-flower is not more delicate than she, therefore
Inure her to the Archer's way by little steps,—
The poet Vidyāpati lays down
This prayer of a messenger upon your feet.
XXXIV.
Sakhī: When first the damsel to her leman came,
Her heart beat fast with shame and fear:
Like to a golden image, Rādhā stood quite still,
Nor moving forward, nor returning.
Taking her hands, he sets her by his side,
And she in shame and anger veils her face:
When he unfolds her face and kisses her upon her mouth,
She hides the shamefast face in Mādhav's breast.
This is the merry song of Vidyāpati the poet,
Delighting Rājā Shivasimha's heart.
XXXV.
Sakhī: The sakhī soothed her fears, and led her lovingly,—
Her leman's heart was gladdened, he took her by the hand:
But Rādhā paled at Kānu's touch,
A lotus fading in the moon's embrace.
She cries: Oh no, no, no! and tears are pouring from her eyes,
She lies outstretched upon the margin of the bed,
His close embrace has not unloosed her zone,—
Even of handling of her breasts has been but little.
She lifts the wimple up to hide her face,
She cannot rest, but trembles through and through.
Says Vidyāpati: The heart of it is patience:
Step by step may Madan claim his own.