ஶ்ரீ கோபீஜநவல்லபாஷ்டகம் ௧

One of two hymns of this name and metre in the collection, and it is the one that never moves. Given by its colophon to Vahnisunu, the son of fire, it is a standing portrait built out of ornament and almost nothing else: lovely as a fresh rain-cloud, eyes like opened lotuses; crown and armlets, a neck-garland bright with gems, gold earrings that swing and flash; the lotus face lit by the light of a smile; a seat among jewels in the shade of the wish-tree, at the centre of a golden circle; the Shrivatsa and the curl of hair, the Kaustubha at the chest, a garment the colour of lotus filaments; rings on the fingers, the peacock feather, the forest garland. Salutation to the beloved of the cowherd women. Only the last verse asks for anything, and it asks in the language of remedy — sun to the mind's darkness, wish-gem, medicine for all sorrow and sickness.