LXXVII.
Sakhī: Peerless Rādhā beside Murāri,—
Her wrath broke down, whose wrath was stubborn!
Mādhava kisses Rādhā's face,
Looks on her moon-face with brimming eyes.
All of her maidens were filled with joy,
Madan entered the hearts of both.
Twain were enraptured, each in the other's lap:
A sight that fills Vidyāpati with bliss.
LXXVIII.
Sakhī: 'Tell me, O Beauty, what were the night's delights.
How did your Lord fulfil your hopes?
(How curiously, methinks, has Providence
Created man and maid!)
You are the fairest woman of the world
And have attained Murāri, worthiest of men.'
Rādhā: 'I am not able to recite my lover's love,
The fates have not bestowed on me a myriad mouths!
Doffing his necklace of ivory pearls,
With care he set it on my neck:
Taking my hands, he set me on his lap,
And cooled my limbs with fragrant sandal.
'He loosed my locks (so neatly bound),
And wreathed them with a campak garland;
With honey-honey-glances Kāna gazed on me,
His eyes brimmed over with tears of joy.'
Billows of love, says Vidyāpati:
Hearken, my dear, I sing their Union.
LXXIX.
Sakhī: Measureless virtue! whereso yearning bodies meet—
Now there has been indissoluble union of the twain:
How many a one essayed this way and that,
Yet none availed to put the twain asunder!