Gopalacampu 1.7.18

1.7.18

[11] tataś ca, sarvāsu nirviśeṣaṃ rodana-vaśatāṃ viśantīṣu, hā rohiṇi, drohiṇi, kiṃ kariṣyāmi? kathaṃ tam anavalokya mariṣyāmi? kathaṃ vā vraja-rāja-diśi mukhaṃ vitariṣyāmi iti paryantaṃ paryanta-daśāvasānam anu yaḥ khalv aśeṣa-vilāpanaḥ prasū-vilāpaḥ | sa punar avakalitaḥ sahasā ghṛtam iva vilālayati hṛdayam | kathaṃ kathayitum īśyate? ity alam atiprasaṅgena iti madhukaṇṭhaḥ svasya sarvasya ca vaivaśya-vaśyatām āśaṅkya maṅkṣu saṅkathayāmāsa,

And then, as all the women without exception fell under the sway of weeping: 'Ah, Rohiṇī! O cruel woman, what shall I do? How shall I die without seeing him? Or how shall I show my face toward the king of Vraja?'—this endless wailing of the mother, right up to the very brink of life, when recalled, swiftly melts the heart like clarified butter. How could one be able to describe it? 'Enough with too much expansion!'—thinking thus, Madhukaṇṭha, fearing that he himself and everyone else would be overpowered by emotion, quickly narrated: