LXXXII.
Rādhā: What shall I tell you, dear gay friend?
I cannot speak of to-day's disports:
I was lying alone on my flowery bed,
Love was my fellow, armed with his flowery darts.
Kāna came with his tinkling anklets,
In jest I lay with eyes closed:
Kāna came nigh and sat beside me,
I turned my face to hide my laughter.
Hari lifted from my locks their flowery chaplet,
And gave me his crest of peacock feathers:
With elaborate care he took the pearl from my nose
And lifted the necklet from my neck!
Loosing the bodice, my dear one lost his wits!
Then Madan woke, and I bound the thief my arms:
Says Vidyāpati: A learned wanton he—
You may be lovesome, but your lover is a master of the art of love!
In you there is love, but he is a lover all-wise in loving!
LXXXIII.
Rādhā: I was still very wrathful.
But my lover disguised as a girl dissolved my pride:
What can I tell of the pranks of to-day, my dear?
For there came Kān with the maiden-messenger!
He bound his curling hair in a knot,
The Lord of lovers dressed like a girl!
He put on a necklace and made a breast in his bosom,
He put on his feet a jewelled anklet.
First he put his left foot foremost,—
Ratipati danced with his flowery bow;
I looked with amazement,—and fondled him freely,
With downbent glances, I set him in my lap!