Alas, alas, she is gone in anger, her love destroyed.
O my slender one, I imagine your heart is dejected,
I cannot console you kneeling in homage, I know not where to find you.
If you pardon me now I shall never repeat this neglect of you ever—
O beautiful, give me your pleasure again. I burn with desire.
As Krishna searches unavailingly, Radha's friend lights upon him and conveys news of her love-tormented state.
Armour she makes of tender lotus garlands to hide her bosom from you,
Large garlands, as if to protect you from heavy showers of shafts from the god of love.
She fears an attack of Love upon you, and lies away hidden;
She wastes away, Krishna, parted from you.