Gopalacampu 1.29.19

1.29.19

[31] atha samāsanne vinodenāhnāyavan madhyāhne kvacin mahā-sarasi sarasija-saurabha-sarasena ghana-rasena snāna-līlām abhiniviśya kevala-tilaka-vanamālā-valita-veśa-bhaṅgi-saṅgitā-pūrvakam apūrve tasminn ekānte kusumita-vanānte kānte mahā-śaila-prānte pallava-lasad-urutara-taru-tala-vilasita-śilāyām upaviśya virājannusrāvāra-cāraṃ prati bhūri-dūrī-bhāvam iteṣu mitreṣu nija-saurabha-rabhasa-samudita-madhura-madhu-kara-nikara-gāna-kṛtāvadhānas tad-dhūṅkāra-kāraṇa-svara-sāram anu kutuka-kṛtānusandhānas tad-anusāri-veṇu-cāri-raṇitena suracita-sārasādi-rasādhānaḥ so' yaṃ ramate sma |

[31] Then, as midday approached quickly through joyous pastimes, having entered into the sport of bathing in a certain vast lake rich with the fragrant nectar of lotuses and thick water, he assumed a delightful style of attire consisting only of tilaka and a forest garland. Afterward, sitting upon a slab of stone shining at the foot of an immense tree glittering with fresh sprouts, in that marvelous, secluded, beautiful corner of the blooming forest at the edge of the great mountain, resplendent while his companions were far off watching over the grazing herd, he fixed his attention on the singing of a swarm of sweet bees drawn forth in haste by his own fragrance. Following in curiosity the very essence of the sound that caused their humming, he took delight in awakening the relish of the cranes and other birds with the music of his flute that mimicked their song.