'Just as a drop of oil floats on the surface of the water,
Such is the likeness of your love:
Just as the water on the sand immediately vanishes,
Such is the way of your affection.'
I was a woman of honour, and am become a wanton
Since his words beguiled me:
I with my own hands shaved my head
Because of Kānu's love.
Deep in my heart I am grieved, like the wife of a thief,
And hide my face within my veil:
Like the eager moth's that flings itself on the flame
Was the fruit I sought to enjoy.
Vidyāpati says: This is the way of the Kali age,
Let no one wonder thereat:
Everyone reaps the fruit of his folly
Who puts himself in another s power.
CXV.
Rādhā: I am dying, am dying, I die indeed, my dear:
To whom shall I leave my Kānu, my storehouse of treasure?
As many as may be, dear friends, remain by me,
And when I am dead, write Krishna's name along my limbs.
And Lalita, friend of my life, whisper such spells in my ears
That my body may die to the sound of Krishna's name:
Nor burn nor cast in the waters Rādhā's body,
But hang me high on a tamāl bough, when I am dead.
The tamāl tree is of Krishna's hue,
There let my body ever rest:
If ever again my darling comes to Brindāban,
I shall come to life at the sight of my dear.
If I may not see his moon-fair face again,
I shall cast off my life in the fire of love!
Vidyāpati says: Hearken, fair damsel,
Be patient of heart, you shall meet your Murāri.