ଗୀତଗୋଵିନ୍ଦଂ ଦ୍ଵିତୀଯଃ ସର୍ଗଃ - ଅକ୍ଲେଶ କେଶଵଃ

Radha, seeing Krishna flirting with other gopis, felt her own pride dissolve. Overcome by jealousy, she retreated to a secluded bower where bees hummed amidst the dense foliage, and there, in her sorrow, she confided her heart to her dear friend. [[ गीतं 5 ]] My heart yearns for Hari as he revels in the Rasa dance, his enchanting flute resonating with the nectar of his lips, his shifting glances dancing, and his crown-ornaments swaying upon his cheeks. He is adorned with a garland of peacock feathers, his dark, cloud-like complexion glowing with the brilliance of a myriad of rainbows. He is filled with the desire to kiss the faces of the beautiful gopis, his lips red as the bandhujiva flower, and his countenance radiant with a charming smile. He is surrounded by thousands of young cowherd maidens, his limbs blossoming with ecstatic joy, while the rays of the jewels upon his hands, feet, and chest dispel the surrounding darkness. He wears a sandal-paste mark upon his forehead like the moon rising amidst a cluster of clouds, and his heart is firm as he delights in the closeness of the gopis' swelling breasts. His ears are adorned with captivating, jewel-encrusted makara-shaped earrings, and he is clothed in yellow garments, followed by the greatest of sages, humans, gods, and demons. He meets them beneath the white kadamba tree, extinguishing the fears born of this age of discord, and he brings joy to my mind, which is agitated by the longing gaze of desire. May this song of Jayadeva, which beautifully describes the captivating form of the enemy of Mura, inspire those of pious merit to contemplate the lotus feet of Hari. [[15]] He counts the virtues of others, yet through delusion, he ignores my own. He finds joy elsewhere while casting my faults aside. Since Krishna delights among other maidens, my mind turns rebellious against me; what can I do in this state of longing? [[ गीतं 6 ]] O friend, go to the secret bower where he hides in the night, glancing in all directions in fear, yet laughing with the intensity of amorous desire—go and unite me with the noble Keshi-demon-slayer, whose heart is filled with the longings of love. He, who was made favorable by hundreds of clever, flattering words when I was shy during our first meeting, and who loosened the garments of my hips with his soft, sweet words and smiles. He, who lay upon a bed of tender leaves, resting long upon my chest, and who embraced and kissed me, drinking the nectar of my lips. He, whose eyes were lazily half-closed, his cheeks charming with a thrill of ecstasy, his body glistening with the sweat of exertion, swaying with the intoxication of supreme love. He, who surpassed the wisdom of the Love-god, his voice echoing the cooing of cuckoos, his hair disheveled with scattered flowers, his chest marked by the scratch of my nails. He, whose anklets tinkled as he moved, making the play of love complete, his waist-bells chiming as he pulled my hair to kiss me. He, whose lotus-eyes were half-closed with the sweet languor of amorous delight, his body falling limp in exhaustion, his heart gladdened by the nectar of Madhusudana. May this playful composition of Jayadeva, describing the love-sports of the sweet enemy of Mura, bring happiness to those who recite these words of the yearning gopi. [[16]] I see Govinda in the forest, surrounded by the beauties of Vraja, his flute falling from his hand. He looks at me with side-long glances beneath his arched eyebrows, his cheeks damp with perspiration, his face radiant with a charming, nectar-like smile; seeing him, I am both bewildered and filled with joy. [[17]] The sight of the newly blossomed Ashoka trees, so difficult to look upon in my sorrow, and even the breeze blowing through the garden near the lake, causes me pain. O friend, even the clusters of mango blossoms, made lovely by the humming of wandering bees, bring me no comfort.