Evil is Madan's mood, says Vidyāpati:
To whom may you confide your care?
Fiercer than flames of a sea of fire
This bitter severance from your darling!
CV.
Rādhā: Fresh flowers are springing by every cabin, brake and copse.
The koil sings the pancam note:
The southern breeze has reached the snowy hills,
And yet my darling has not come again!
The lunar sandal burns my body hotly,
The bees are buzzing in the woods,
The Spring is here and Kānu far away,
Unfriendly Fate I see.
With steadfast gaze to scan my Master's face,
My eyes have no content:
So many hardships may a woman's shrivelled heart
Endure in such a joyful season!
My body wasting daily, like the winter lotus,
I know not what the end will be!
Fie upon life, for shame, says Vidyāpati,
Pitiless Mādhava's heart!
CVI.
Rādhā: Unhappy I, all birdalone.
Calling for Kānu, Kān, my life slipped by:
With promise of return, my lover went away,
He has forgotten all my former charms!
The flowers are blowing in every glade,
Now Spring has come, my dear,
The host of koils spread their noise:
My darling is abroad, I may no more sustain!
To whom shall I confide my heart's distress?
No living creature of the Triple World such pain may know!
Hearken, fair Rāi, says Vidyāpati:
I shall expound it all to Kānu.