Never any household in the wicked world
Has seen such love as this, a very fount of milk!
If one should fetch it to the fire
And stir the milk to separate the water,
The milk, exulting in the heat, boils over—
Goaded by separation pangs, it leaps into the fire!
If any one should pour more water in it,
Then the separation-pangs withdraw afar.
Avows Vidyāpati: Love is such,
And such the love of Rādhā-Mādhava.
LXXX.
Rādha: Very cunning is my Kāna,
Without any spell he broke my wrath!
He appeared to-day in a yogi's weed—
Who can explain such singular gestes?
At the will of my mother-in-law I went to give him alms,
When he saw my face, he began to murmur words of love,
And he said: 'The gift I ask is the jewel of your pride,'—
(Then I could tell what guile was his!)
'Tis shame to recite all that he said.
Nobody knows the Lord of lovers!
Vidyāpati says: lovely Rāi,
How can you plumb the depth of his cunning?
LXXXI.
Rādhā: What can I tell of to-day's affair my dear?
A jewel fell to the hands of a fool
Who knows not the price of gold or glass,
And reckons alike the jewels and gañja seeds,
Who is lacking in lore of crafts of love,
And reckons milk and water the same:
How can I feel affection for him?
Shall a necklace of pearls adorn the neck of a monkey?
Wise in this savour, Vidyāpati asks:
Has pan ever graced the mouth of a monkey?