Vidyāpati finds great delight herein:
For at a sudden touch, she pushes out her hand!
XLVII.
Sakhī: Enough! and cast the trouble from your heart.
Be not afraid, go to your lover's side:
Have done with obstinacy, for I tell you
Never can be joy without its pain.
But half a grain of grief, and then a life of gladness
Why are you so averse to this, my girl?
Just for a moment shut your eyes,
As a sick man drinks his draught.
Go, Beauty, go, and play loves game,
Vidyāpati prays for your consent.
XLVIII.
Rādhā: O Hari, if you will insist on touching me,
The sin of murdering a wife will fall on you:
You are a guileful lover full of passion
I know not whether it be sweet or bitter.
When passion is outpoured, I shiver
Like an arrow-smitten bounding antelope:
O do not realise your hopes before the time,—
Savour is never lacking to the wise man's end.
Vidyāpati says: I see it clear,
That honeyed fruit is never green.