Gita Govinda 1: Gītagovinda

1.0.p1

śrī-jayadeva-gosvāmi-viracitaṃ
gīta-govinda-kāvyam

The poem Gītagovinda,
composed by the venerable Jayadeva Gosvāmin.

1.0.p2

śrī-gīta-govinda-kāvyam
(1)
prathamaḥ sargaḥ
sāmoda-dāmodaraḥ

The Holy Poem Gītagovinda.
First Sarga:
Joyful Dāmodara.

1.1.1

meghair meduraṃ ambaraṃ vana-bhuvaḥ śyāmās tamāla-drumair naktaṃ bhīrur ayaṃ tvam eva tad imaṃ rādhe gṛhaṃ prāpaya |
itthaṃ nanda-nideśataś calitayoḥ praty-adhva-kuñja-drumaṃ rādhā-mādhavayor jayanti yamunā-kūle rahaḥ-kelayaḥ ||

“The sky is thick with clouds; the forest grounds are dark with tamāla trees;
he is afraid by night; so you alone, O Rādhā, escort him home.”
At these words of Nanda the two departed: victorious along the Yamunā’s bank
are the secret amorous plays of Rādhā and Mādhava beside every bower-tree on the path.

1.1.2

vāg-devatā-carita-citrita-citta-sadmā padmāvatī-caraṇa-cāraṇa-cakravartī |
śrī-vāsudeva-rati-keli-kathā-sametaṃ etaṃ karoti jayadeva-kaviḥ prabandhaṃ ||

The palace of whose mind is adorned with the deeds of the Goddess of Speech,
an emperor among wandering bards who attend Padmāvatī’s feet,
the poet Jayadeva composes this lyric composition
fraught with tales of the erotic play and love of the holy Vāsudeva.

1.1.3

yadi hari-smaraṇe sarasaṃ mano yadi vilāsa-kalāsu kutūhalaṃ |
madhura-komala-kānta-padāvalīṃ śṛṇu tadā jayadeva-sarasvatīm ||

If your mind is passionate in remembering Hari, if you have curiosity for the arts of amorous dalliance,
then listen to Jayadeva’s eloquence, a sequence of sweet, delicate, and lovely verses.

1.1.4

vacaḥ pallavayaty umāpatidharaḥ sandarbha-śuddhiṃ girāṃ jānītejayadeva eva śaraṇaḥ ślāghyo durūha-druteḥ |
NOTE: {durūhādbhuteḥ iti ni-pāthāntaraḥ | }
śṛṅgārottara-sat-prameya-racanair ācārya-govardhana-spardhī ko'pi na viśrutaḥ srutidharo dhoyī kavi-kṣmāpatiḥ ||

Umāpatidhara makes his speech sprout; Jayadeva alone knows the pure composition of words;
Śaraṇa is praiseworthy for swiftness in difficult passages; none is renowned to rival
Master Govardhana in compositions on true subjects heightened by erotic sentiment;
and the king of poets, Dhoyī, is a living storehouse of what he has heard.

1.1.4.p1

|| prathama-prabandhaḥ ||

First Lyric Composition

1.1.4.p2

mālava-gauḍa-rāgeṇa rūpaka-talena giyate | aṣṭāpadī |

Sung in Mālava-Gauḍa melodic mode and Rūpaka rhythmic meter. An eight-stanza song.

1.1.5

pralaya-payodhijale dhṛtavān asi vedaṃ vihita-vahitra-caritram akhedam |
keśava dhṛta-mīna-śarīra jaya jagadīśa hare [dhruva-padam] ||

In the waters of the ocean of cosmic dissolution you upheld the Veda, acting as a boat without distress.
O Keśava who assumed the body of a fish, triumph, Hari, Lord of the world! [Refrain]

1.1.6

kṣitir ativipulatare tava tiṣṭhati pṛṣṭhe dharaṇī-dharaṇa-kiṇa-cakra-gariṣṭhe |
keśava dhṛta-kacchapa-rūpa jaya jagadīśa hare ||

The earth rests upon your exceedingly vast back, made rough and heavy with scars from supporting the world.
O Keśava who assumed the form of a tortoise, triumph, Hari, Lord of the world!

1.1.7

vasati daśana-śikhare dharaṇī tava lagnā śaśini kalaṅka-kaleva nimagnā |
keśava dhṛta-sūkara-rūpa jaya jagadīśa hare ||

The earth stays attached to the tip of your tusk, like a dark mark clinging upon the moon.
O Keśava who assumed the form of a boar, triumph, Hari, Lord of the world!

1.1.8

tava kara-kamala-vare nakhaṃ adbhuta-śṛṅgaṃ dalita-hiraṇyakaśipu-tanu-bhṛṅgaṃ |
keśava dhṛta-nara-hari-rūpa jaya jagad-īśa hare ||

On your excellent lotus-hand the nail is a wondrous claw that tears apart the bee-like body of Hiraṇyakaśipu.
O Keśava who assumed the form of the man-lion, triumph, Hari, Lord of the world!

1.1.9

chalayasi vikramaṇe balim adbhuta-vāmana pada-nakha-nīra-janita-jana-pāvana |
keśava dhṛta-vāmana-rupa jaya jagad-īśa hare ||

With your strides you deceive Bali, O wondrous dwarf, purifying mortals with the water from your toenail.
O Keśava who assumed the form of a dwarf, triumph, Hari, Lord of the world!

1.1.10

kṣatrīya-rudhira-maye jagad apagata-pāpaṃ snapayasi payasi śamita-bhava-tāpam |
keśava dhṛta-bhṛgu-pati-rūpa jaya jagad-īśa hare ||

You bathe the world free of sin in water consisting of warriors' blood, quenching the fever of worldly existence.
O Keśava who assumed the form of the lord of the Bhṛgus, triumph, Hari, Lord of the world!

1.1.11

vitarasi dikṣu raṇe dik-pati-kamanīyaṃ daśa-mukha-mauli-bali ramaṇīyam |
keśava dhṛta-rāma-śarīra jaya jagad-īśa hare ||

In battle you scatter in every direction, pleasing to the guardians of the quarters, the lovely offering of the ten-faced one’s heads.
O Keśava who assumed the body of Rāma, triumph, Hari, Lord of the world!

1.1.11.p1

(1.7)
NOTE: {raghupati-rūpaṃ iti ha-saṃskaraṇa-pāṭhaḥ.}

1.7

1.1.12

vahasi vapuṣi viśade vasanaṃ jaladābhaṃ hala-hati-bhīti-milita-yamunābham |
keśava dhṛta-hala-dhara-rūpa jaya jagad-īśa hare ||

On your fair body you wear a garment radiant like a rain-cloud, resembling the Yamunā fearful of the blow of your plow.
O Keśava who assumed the form of the plow-bearer, triumph, Hari, Lord of the world!

1.1.13

nindasi yajña-vidher ahaha śruti-jātam sadaya-hṛdaya darśita-paśu-ghātam |
keśava dhṛta-buddha-śarīra jaya jagad-īśa hare ||

Alas, you condemn the mass of Vedic injunctions for sacrifice, showing compassion in your heart at the slaughter of beasts.
O Keśava who assumed the body of the Buddha, triumph, Hari, Lord of the world!

1.1.14

mleccha-nivaha-nidhane kalayasi karavālaṃ dhūma-ketum iva kim api karālam |
keśava dhṛta-kalki-śarīra jaya jagad-īśa hare ||

For the destruction of barbarian hordes you wield a sword, terrible like a blazing comet.
O Keśava who assumed the body of Kalkin, triumph, Hari, Lord of the world!

1.1.15

śrī-jayadeva-kaver idam uditam udāraṃ śṛṇu sukhadaṃ śubhadaṃ bhava-sāram |
keśava dhṛta-daśa-vidha-rūpa jaya jagad-īśa hare ||

Listen to this noble utterance of the poet Jayadeva, bestowing joy, bestowing auspiciousness, the essence of existence.
O Keśava who assumed ten different forms, triumph, Hari, Lord of the world!

1.1.16

vedān uddharate jaganti vahate bhūgolam udbibhrate daityaṃ dārayate baliṃ chalayate kṣatra-kṣayaṃ kurvate |
paulastyaṃ jayate halaṃ kalayate kāruṇyam ātanvate mlecchān mūrcchayate daśākṛti-kṛte kṛṣṇāya tubhyaṃ namaḥ ||

To you who rescued the Vedas, who bear the worlds, who lifted up the terrestrial globe, who tore the demon asunder, who deceived Bali, who brought about the destruction of the warriors,
who conquered the descendant of Pulastya, who wield the plow, who spread forth compassion, who confound the barbarians, who fashioned the ten forms—homage to you, O Kṛṣṇa!

1.1.16.p2

|| prabandhaḥ 2 ||

Lyric Composition 2

1.1.16.p3

gurjarī-rāga-niḥsāra-tālābhyāṃ gīyate |

Sung in Gurjarī melodic mode and Niḥsāra rhythmic meter.

1.1.17

śrita-kamalā-kuca-maṇḍala dhṛta-kuṇḍala e
kalita-lalita-vana-māla
jaya jaya deva hare ||

You who rest on the orb of Kamalā’s breasts, wearing earrings, O!
adorned with a lovely garland of wild flowers,
triumph, triumph, O divine Hari!

1.1.17.p1

[dhruva-padam]

[Refrain]

1.1.18

dina-maṇi-maṇḍala-maṇḍana
bhava-khaṇḍana e
muni-jana-mānasa-haṃsa
jaya jaya deva hare ||

Ornament of the sun’s orb,
destroyer of worldly existence, O!
swan in the minds of the sages,
triumph, triumph, O divine Hari!

1.1.19

kāliya-viṣa-dhara-gañjana
jana-rañjana e
yadukula-nalina-dineśa
jaya jaya deva hare ||

Subduer of the venomous Kāliya serpent,
delighter of people, O!
sun to the lotus of Yadu’s race,
triumph, triumph, O divine Hari!

1.1.20

madhu-mura-naraka-vināśana
garuḍāsana e |
sura-kula-keli-nidāna
jaya jaya deva hare ||

Destroyer of Madhu, Mura, and Naraka,
whose seat is Garuḍa, O!
cause of the sport of the gods,
triumph, triumph, O divine Hari!

1.1.21

amala-kamala-dala-locana
bhava-mocana e
tribhuvana-bhuvana-nidhāna
jaya jaya deva hare ||

Whose eyes are spotless lotus petals,
liberator from worldly existence, O!
treasure of the three worlds,
triumph, triumph, O divine Hari!

1.1.22

janaka-sutā-kṛta-bhūṣaṇa
jita-dūṣaṇa e
samara-śamita-daśa-kaṇṭha
jaya jaya deva hare ||

Adorned by the daughter of Janaka,
conqueror of Dūṣaṇa, O!
who quelled the ten-necked one in battle,
triumph, triumph, O divine Hari!

1.1.23

abhinava-jala-dhara-sundara
dhṛta-mandara e
śrī-mukha-candra-cakora
jaya jaya deva hare ||

Handsome like a fresh rain-cloud,
upholder of Mount Mandara, O!
cakora bird to the moon of Lakṣmī’s face,
triumph, triumph, O divine Hari!

1.1.24

tava caraṇaṃ praṇatā vayam
NOTE: {caraṇe}
iti bhāvaya e
kuru kuśalaṃ praṇateṣu
jaya jaya deva hare ||

“We bow at your feet”:
thus consider, O!
Bring well-being to those who bow!
Triumph, triumph, O divine Hari!

1.1.25

śrī-jayadeva-kaver idaṃ
kurute mudam e
maṅgalam ujjvala-gītaṃ
jaya jaya deva hare ||

May this auspicious and luminous song
of the poet Jayadeva
create joy, O!
Triumph, triumph, O divine Hari!

1.1.26

padmā-payodhara-taṭī-parirambha-lagna-kāśmīra-mudritam uro madhusūdanasya |
vyaktānurāgam iva khelad-anaṅga-kheda-svedāmbu-pūram anupūrayatu priyaṃ vaḥ ||

Imprinted with saffron from embracing the slope of Padmā’s breasts,
may the chest of Madhusūdana fulfill your desire—
a chest whose stream of sweat from the fatigue of playful Bodiless One
seems to make his passion manifest.

1.1.27

vasante vāsantī-kusuma-sukumārair avayavair bhramantīṃ kāntāre bahu-vihita-kṛṣṇānusaraṇām |
amandaṃ kandarpa-jvara-janita-cintākulatayā valad-bādhāṃ rādhāṃ sarasam idam ūce sahacarī ||

In springtime, to Rādhā, wandering in the forest with limbs delicate like vāsantī flowers,
pursuing Kṛṣṇa in many ways, her torment mounting violently
with anxiety born of the fever of Kandarpa, a companion passionately spoke as follows:

Beautiful Radha, jasmine-bosomed Radha,
All in the Spring-time waited by the wood
For Krishna fair, Krishna the all-forgetful,--
Krishna with earthly love's false fire consuming--
And some one of her maidens sang this song:--

1.1.27.p1

NOTE: {calad iti ni-pāṭhāntaraḥ.}

NOTE: {“calat” is an alternative reading.}

1.1.27.p2

|| prabandhaḥ 3 ||

Lyric Composition 3

(What follows is to the Music VASANTA and the Mode YATI.)

1.1.27.p3

vasanta-rāga-yati-tālābhyāṃ gīyate |

Sung in Vasanta melodic mode and Yati rhythmic meter.

1.1.28

lalita-lavaṅga-latā-pariśīlana-komala-malaya-samīre |
madhukara-nikara-karambita-kokila-kūjita-kuñja-kuṭīre ||

When the breeze from the Malaya mountains is soft from caressing tender clove creepers,
and bower-cottages resound with cooing cuckoos mingled with swarms of bees,

I know where Krishna tarries in these early days of Spring,
When every wind from warm Malay brings fragrance on its wing;
Brings fragrance stolen far away from thickets of the clove,
In jungles where the bees hum and the Koil flutes her love;
He dances with the dancers of a merry morrice one,
All in the budding Spring-time, for 'tis sad to be alone.

1.1.28.p1

viharati harir iha sarasa-vasante
nṛtyati yuvatī-janena samaṃ sakhi virahi-janasya durante ||dhr||

Hari sports here in the passionate spring;
he dances together with young women, O confidante, in this season hard to bear for those separated from a lover. [Refrain]

1.1.29

unmada-madana-manoratha-pathika-vadhū-jana-janita-vilāpe |
ali-kula-saṅkula-kusuma-samūha-nirākula-bakula-kalāpe ||

When laments are drawn from wives of travelers by desires of maddening Madana,
and clusters of bakula blossoms are stirred into frenzy by swarms of gathered bees,

I know how Krishna passes these hours of blue and gold
When parted lovers sigh to meet and greet and closely hold
Hand fast in hand; and every branch upon the Vakul-tree
Droops downward with a hundred blooms, in every bloom a bee;
He is dancing with the dancers to a laughter-moving tone,
In the soft awakening Spring-time, when 'tis hard to live alone.

1.1.30

mṛga-mada-saurabha-rabhasa-vaśaṃvada-nava-dala-māla-tamāle |
yuva-jana-hṛdaya-vidāraṇa manasija-nakha-ruci-kiṃśuka-jāle ||

When lines of tamāla trees put forth fresh foliage yielding to the rich fragrance of musk,
and clusters of kiṃśuka flowers gleam like nails of mind-born love to tear the hearts of youthful men,

Where Kroona-flowers, that open at a lover's lightest tread,
Break, and, for shame at what they hear, from white blush modest red;
And all the spears on all the boughs of all the Ketuk-glades
Seem ready darts to pierce the hearts of wandering youths and maids;
Tis there thy Krishna dances till the merry drum is done,
All in the sunny Spring-time, when who can live alone?

1.1.31

madana-mahīpati-kanaka-daṇḍa-ruci-keśara-kusuma-vikāśe |
milita-śili-mukha-pāṭala-paṭala-kṛta-smara-tūṇa-vilāse ||

Where blossoms of the keśara flower bloom with the splendor of the golden scepter of King Madana; / where the swarms of bees gathered on pāṭala flowers take on the amorous beauty of Smara's quiver;

Where the breaking forth of blossom on the yellow Keshra-sprays
Dazzles like Kama's sceptre, whom all the world obeys;
And Pâtal-buds fill drowsy bees from pink delicious bowls,
As Kama's nectared goblet steeps in languor human souls;
There he dances with the dancers, and of Radha thinketh none,
All in the warm new Spring-tide, when none will live alone.

1.1.32

vigalita-lajjita-jagad-avalokana-taruṇa-karuṇa-kṛta-hāse |
virahi-nikṛntana-kunta-mukhākṛti-ketaka-danturitāśe ||

Where tender compassion seems to mock the gaze of the universe stripped of shame; / where the directions are bristling with ketaka blossoms shaped like lance-tips to pierce those separated from lovers;

Where the breaking forth of blossom on the yellow Keshra-sprays
Dazzles like Kama's sceptre, whom all the world obeys;
And Pâtal-buds fill drowsy bees from pink delicious bowls,
As Kama's nectared goblet steeps in languor human souls;
There he dances with the dancers, and of Radha thinketh none,
All in the warm new Spring-tide, when none will live alone.

1.1.33

mādhavikā-parimala-lalite nava-mālati-jāti-sugandhau |
NOTE: {mālikayātisugandhau iti ni-pāṭhāntaraḥ.}
muni-manasām api mohana-kārīṇi taruṇa||-karaṇa-bandhau ||

Delightful with the fragrance of mādhavikā, perfumed with fresh mālatī and jasmine, / infatuating even the minds of sages, a kin to youthful passions;

Where the breath of waving Mâdhvi pours incense through the grove,
And silken Mogras lull the sense with essences of love,--
The silken-soft pale Mogra, whose perfume fine and faint
Can melt the coldness of a maid, the sternness of a saint--
There dances with those dancers thine other self, thine Own,
All in the languorous Spring-time, when none will live alone.

1.1.34

sphurad-atimukta-latā-parirambhana-mukulita-pulakita-cūte |
vṛndāvana-vīpine parīsara-parigata-yamunā-jala-pūte ||

Where mango trees bud and thrill with horripilation at the embrace of trembling atimukta creepers; / in the forest of Vṛndāvana, purified by the waters of the Yamunā winding through its borders.

Where--as if warm lips touched sealed eyes and waked them--all the
bloom
Opens upon the mangoes to feel the sunshine come;
And Atimuktas wind their arms of softest green about,
Clasping the stems, while calm and clear great Jumna spreadeth out;
There dances and there laughs thy Love, with damsels many an one,
In the rosy days of Spring-time, for he will not live alone.

1.1.35

śrī-jayadeva-bhaṇitam idam udayati hari-caraṇa-smṛti-sāram |
sarasa-vasanta-samaya-vana-varṇanam anugata-madana-vikāram ||

This utterance of illustrious Jayadeva shines forth, containing the essence of meditating on Hari's feet, / describing the forest in the passionate spring season, attended by the stirs of Madana.

Mark this song of Jayadev!
Deep as pearl in ocean-wave
Lurketh in its lines a wonder
Which the wise alone will ponder:
Though it seemeth of the earth.
Heavenly is the music's birth;
Telling darkly of delights
In the wood, of wasted nights,
Of witless days, and fruitless love,
And false pleasures of the grove,
And rash passions of the prime,
And those dances of Spring-time;
Time, which seems so subtle-sweet,
Time, which pipes to dancing-feet,
Ah! so softly--ah! so sweetly--
That among those wood-maids featly
Krishna cannot choose but dance,
Letting pass life's greater chance.

1.1.36

dara-vidalita-mallī-valli-cañcat-parāga-prakaṭita-paṭa-vāsair vāsayan kānanāni |
iha hi dahati cetaḥ ketakī-gandha-bandhuḥ prasarad-asama-bāṇa-prāṇavad gandhavāhaḥ ||

Perfuming the woodlands with garments of scent made visible by the pollen shaking from slightly blossomed jasmine creepers, / here the breeze, kin to the fragrance of ketakī, burns the mind like the life-breath of the Bodiless One spreading abroad.

Yet the winds that sigh so
As they stir the rose,
Wake a sigh from Krishna
Wistfuller than those;
All their faint breaths swinging
The creepers to and fro
Pass like rustling arrows
Shot from Kama's bow:
Thus among the dancers
What those zephyrs bring
Strikes to Krishna's spirit
Like a darted sting.

1.1.37

NOTE: {atra haridāsa-dāsasya prabodhānanda-ṭīkā-saṃvalita-saṃskaraṇe 48-saṅkhyaka-padyaṃ dṛśyate }
unmīlan-madhu-gandha-lubdha-madhupa-vyādhūta-cūtāṅkura-krīḍat-kokila-kākalī-kalakalair udgīrṇa-karṇa-jvaraḥ |
NOTE: {kala-ravair iti ni-pāṭhāntaraḥ.}
nīyante pathikaiḥ kathaṃ katham api dhyānāvadhāna-kṣaṇa prāpta-prāṇa-samāgama-rasollāsair amī vāsarāḥ ||

With a fever in their ears stirred by the soft chirping of cuckoos sporting among mango shoots shaken by bees greedy for opened honey-scent, / these days are somehow passed by travelers through the joy of the nectar of union with their beloved's life, attained in a moment of absorbed meditation.

And all as if--far wandered--
The traveller should hear
The bird of home, the Koil,
With nest-notes rich and clear;
And there should come one moment
A blessed fleeting dream
Of the bees among the mangoes
Beside his native stream;
So flash those sudden yearnings,
That sense of a dearer thing,
The love and lack of Radha
Upon his soul in Spring.

1.1.38

aneka-nārī-parirambha-sambhrama-sphuraṇ-manohāri-vilāsa-lālasam |
murārim ārād upadarśayanty asau sakhī samakṣaṃ punar āha rādhikām ||

Pointing out nearby Murāri, who yearned for charming amorous dalliance shining forth in the flurried embrace of many women, / that confidante spoke again to Rādhikā before her eyes:

Then she, the maid of Radha, spake again;
And pointing far away between the leaves
Guided her lovely Mistress where to look,
And note how Krishna wantoned in the wood
Now with this one, now that; his heart, her prize,
Panting with foolish passions, and his eyes
Beaming with too much love for those fair girls--
Fair, but not so as Radha; and she sang:

1.1.38.p1

|| prabandhaḥ 4 ||

|| Lyric Composition 4

(What follows is to the Music RÂMAGIRÎ and the Mode YATI.)

1.1.38.p2

rāmakarī-rāga-yati-tālābhyāṃ gīyate |

Sung in the rāga Rāmakarī and the tāla Yati.

1.1.39

candana-carcita-nīla-kalevara-pīta-vasana-vana-mālī |
keli-calan-maṇi-kuṇḍala-maṇḍita-gaṇḍa-yuga-smita-śālī ||

His dark body anointed with sandal, clad in yellow garments, wearing a garland of wild flowers, / smiling, his cheeks adorned with jeweled earrings swaying in play—

See, Lady! how thy Krishna passes these idle hours
Decked forth in fold of woven gold, and crowned with forest-flowers;
And scented with the sandal, and gay with gems of price--
Rubies to mate his laughing lips, and diamonds like his, eyes;--
In the company of damsels, who dance and sing and play,
Lies Krishna, laughing, toying, dreaming his Spring away.

1.1.39.p1

harir iha mugdha-vadhū-nikare vilāsini vilāsati kelī-pare ||dhr||

Here Hari sports playfully among the throng of infatuated women, intent on erotic play. || Refrain

1.1.40

pīna-payodhara-bhāra-bhareṇa hariṃ parirabhya sarāgam |
gopa-vadhūr anugāyati kācid udañcita-pañcama-rāgam ||

Embracing Hari passionately with the full weight of her swelling breasts, / a certain cowherd woman sings along in the raised pañcama pitch.

One, with star-blossomed champâk wreathed, wooes him to rest his head
On the dark pillow of her breast so tenderly outspread;
And o'er his brow with, roses blown she fans a fragrance rare,
That falls on the enchanted sense like rain in thirsty air,
While the company of damsels wave many an odorous spray,
And Krishna, laughing, toying, sighs the soft Spring away.

1.1.41

kāpi vilāsa-vilola-vilocana-khelana-janita-manojam |
dhyāyati mugdha-vadhūr adhikaṃ madhusūdana-vadana-sarojam ||

Another simple cowherd woman deeply meditates on the lotus face of Madhusūdana, / which stirs mind-born love through the play of his eyes restless with amorous dalliance.

Another, gazing in his face, sits wistfully apart,
Searching it with those looks of love that leap from heart to heart;
Her eyes--afire with shy desire, veiled by their lashes black--
Speak so that Krishna cannot choose but send the message back,
In the company of damsels whose bright eyes in a ring
Shine round him with soft meanings in the merry light of Spring.

1.1.42

kāpi kapola-tale militā lapituṃ kim api śruti-mūle |
cāru cucumba nitambavatī dayitaṃ pulakair anukūle ||

Another woman of shapely hips, drawing near to his cheek to whisper something at the base of his ear, / sweetly kissed her beloved, who was responsive with thrills of delight.

The third one of that dazzling band of dwellers in the wood--
Body and bosom panting with the pulse of youthful blood--
Leans over him, as in his ear a lightsome thing to speak,
And then with leaf-soft lip imprints a kiss below his cheek;
A kiss that thrills, and Krishna turns at the silken touch
To give it back--ah, Radha! forgetting thee too much.

1.1.43

keli-kalā-kutukena ca kācid amuṃ yamunā-jala-kūle |
mañjula-vañjula-kuñja-gataṃ vicakarṣa kareṇa dukūle ||

And another, out of curiosity for erotic art, on the bank of the Yamunā's waters, / pulled him by his fine cloth with her hand as he stood in a charming cane bower.

And one with arch smile beckons him away from Jumna's banks,
Where the tall bamboos bristle like spears in battle-ranks,
And plucks his cloth to make him come into the mango-shade,
Where the fruit is ripe and golden, and the milk and cakes are laid:
Oh! golden-red the mangoes, and glad the feasts of Spring,
And fair the flowers to lie upon, and sweet the dancers sing.

1.1.44

kara-tala-tāla-tarala-valayāvali-kalita-kalasvana-vaṃśe |
rāsa-rase saha-nṛtya-parā hariṇā yuvatī praśaśaṃse ||

Intent on dancing with Hari in the joy of the rāsa, / a maiden was praised by him as the flutes softly sounded in harmony with the trembling bracelets keeping beat with her palms.

Sweetest of all that Temptress who dances for him now
With subtle feet which part and meet in the Râs-measure slow,
To the chime of silver bangles and the beat of rose-leaf hands,
And pipe and lute and cymbal played by the woodland bands;
So that wholly passion-laden--eye, ear, sense, soul o'ercome--
Krishna is theirs in the forest; his heart forgets its home.

1.1.45

śliṣyati kām api cumbati kām api kām api ramayati rāmām |
paśyati sa smita-cāru-tarām aparām anugacchati vāmām ||

He embraces one woman, kisses another, delights another lovely girl; / he looks at another who smiles most charmingly, and follows after another graceful maiden.

Krishna, made for heavenly things,
'Mid those woodland singers sings;
With those dancers dances featly,
Gives back soft embraces sweetly;
Smiles on that one, toys with this,
Glance for glance and kiss for kiss;
Meets the merry damsels fairly,
Plays the round of folly rarely,
Lapped in milk-warm spring-time weather,
He and those brown girls together.

1.1.46

śrī-jayadeva-bhaṇitam idam adbhuta-keśava-keli-rahasyam |
vṛndāvana-vipine lalitaṃ vitanotu śubhāni yaśasyam ||

Spoken by illustrious Jayadeva, may this delightful secret of Keśava's wondrous erotic play / in the forest of Vṛndāvana extend auspiciousness and renown.

And this shadowed earthly love
In the twilight of the grove,
Dance and song and soft caresses,
Meeting looks and tangled tresses,
Jayadev the same hath writ,
That ye might have gain of it,
Sagely its deep sense conceiving
And its inner light believing;
How that Love--the mighty Master,
Lord of all the stars that cluster
In the sky, swiftest and slowest,
Lord of highest, Lord of lowest--
Manifests himself to mortals,
Winning them towards the portals
Of his secret House, the gates
Of that bright Paradise which waits
The wise in love. Ah, human creatures!
Even your phantasies are teachers.
Mighty Love makes sweet in seeming
Even Krishna's woodland dreaming;
Mighty Love sways all alike
From self to selflessness. Oh! strike
From your eyes the veil, and see
What Love willeth Him to be
Who in error, but in grace,
Sitteth with that lotus-face,
And those eyes whose rays of heaven
Unto phantom-eyes are given;
Holding feasts of foolish mirth
With these Visions of the earth;
Learning love, and love imparting;
Yet with sense of loss upstarting:--

1.1.46.p1

NOTE: {valitam iti ca pāṭhaḥ.}

NOTE: {And “valitam” is also a reading.}

And this shadowed earthly love
In the twilight of the grove,
Dance and song and soft caresses,
Meeting looks and tangled tresses,
Jayadev the same hath writ,
That ye might have gain of it,
Sagely its deep sense conceiving
And its inner light believing;
How that Love--the mighty Master,
Lord of all the stars that cluster
In the sky, swiftest and slowest,
Lord of highest, Lord of lowest--
Manifests himself to mortals,
Winning them towards the portals
Of his secret House, the gates
Of that bright Paradise which waits
The wise in love. Ah, human creatures!
Even your phantasies are teachers.
Mighty Love makes sweet in seeming
Even Krishna's woodland dreaming;
Mighty Love sways all alike
From self to selflessness. Oh! strike
From your eyes the veil, and see
What Love willeth Him to be
Who in error, but in grace,
Sitteth with that lotus-face,
And those eyes whose rays of heaven
Unto phantom-eyes are given;
Holding feasts of foolish mirth
With these Visions of the earth;
Learning love, and love imparting;
Yet with sense of loss upstarting:--

1.1.47

viśveṣām anurañjanena janayann ānandam indīvara-śreṇī-śyāmala-komalair upanayann aṅgair anaṅgotsavam |
svacchandaṃ vraja-sundarībhir abhitaḥ praty-aṅgam āliṅgitaḥ śṛṅgāraḥ sakhi mūrtimān iva madhau mugdho hariḥ krīḍati ||

Creating bliss by delighting all beings, bringing about a festival of the Bodiless One with limbs soft and dark as blue lotuses, / embraced freely on every limb on all sides by the beauties of Vraja, infatuated Hari sports in spring like the erotic sentiment embodied, my friend.

And this shadowed earthly love
In the twilight of the grove,
Dance and song and soft caresses,
Meeting looks and tangled tresses,
Jayadev the same hath writ,
That ye might have gain of it,
Sagely its deep sense conceiving
And its inner light believing;
How that Love--the mighty Master,
Lord of all the stars that cluster
In the sky, swiftest and slowest,
Lord of highest, Lord of lowest--
Manifests himself to mortals,
Winning them towards the portals
Of his secret House, the gates
Of that bright Paradise which waits
The wise in love. Ah, human creatures!
Even your phantasies are teachers.
Mighty Love makes sweet in seeming
Even Krishna's woodland dreaming;
Mighty Love sways all alike
From self to selflessness. Oh! strike
From your eyes the veil, and see
What Love willeth Him to be
Who in error, but in grace,
Sitteth with that lotus-face,
And those eyes whose rays of heaven
Unto phantom-eyes are given;
Holding feasts of foolish mirth
With these Visions of the earth;
Learning love, and love imparting;
Yet with sense of loss upstarting:--

1.1.48

nijotsaṅga-vasad-bhujaṅga-kavala-kleśād iveśācalaṃ prāleya-plavanecchayānusarati śrī-khaṇḍa-śailānilaḥ |
NOTE: {adryotsaṅgaadyotsaṅga- iti ni-pāṭhāntaraḥ.}
kiṃ ca snigdha-rasāla-mauli-mukulāny ālokya harṣodayād unmīlanti kuhūḥ kuhūr iti kalottālāḥ pikānāṃ giraḥ ||

As if from the distress of being swallowed by serpents dwelling on his slopes, the breeze from the sandalwood mountain seeks Mount Kailāsa, desiring to plunge into snow; / moreover, seeing the tender shoots at the crest of the mango trees, the shrill, melodious cries of the cuckoos burst forth in rising joy: “Kuhū! Kuhū!”

For the cloud that veils the fountains
Underneath the Sandal mountains,
How--as if the sunshine drew
All its being to the blue--
It takes flight, and seeks to rise
High into the purer skies,
High into the snow and frost,
On the shining summits lost!
Ah! and how the Koil's strain
Smites the traveller with pain,--
When the mango blooms in spring,
And "Koohoo," "Koohoo," they sing--
Pain of pleasures not yet won,
Pain of journeys not yet done,
Pain of toiling without gaining,
Pain, 'mid gladness, of still paining.

1.1.49

NOTE: {ayaṃ ślokaḥ prabodhānandena na paṭhitaḥ }
rāsollāsa-bhareṇa vibhrama-bhṛtām ābhīra-vāma-bhruvām abhyarṇaṃ parirabhya nirbharam uraḥ premāndhayā rādhayā |
sādhu tvad-vadanaṃ sudhā-mayam iti vyāhṛtya gīta-stuti-vyājād udbhaṭa-cumbitaḥ smita-manohāri hariḥ pātu vaḥ ||

Embracing tightly against his chest the beloved of the cowherd women filled with grace in the exuberance of the rāsa, / Rādhā, blinded by love, kissed him boldly under the pretense of a hymn of praise, crying, “How sweet is your face, full of nectar!”; may that Hari, captivating with his smile, protect you.

But may He guide us all to glory high
Who laughed when Radha glided, hidden, by,
And all among those damsels free and bold
Touched Krishna with a soft mouth, kind and cold;
And like the others, leaning on his breast,
Unlike the others, left there Love's unrest;
And like the others, joining in his song,
Unlike the others, made him silent long.

1.1.49.p1

NOTE: {smṛta (?)}

NOTE: {smṛta (?)}

1.1.49.p2

|| iti śrī-gīta-govinde sāmoda-dāmodaro nāma prathamaḥ sargaḥ ||

|| Thus ends the first sarga, entitled “Joyous Dāmodara,” in the illustrious Gītagovinda.

(Here ends that Sarga of the Gîta Govinda entitled SAMODADAMODARO.)

1.1.49.p4

dvitīyaḥ sargaḥ
akleśa-keśavaḥ

Second Sarga
Carefree Keśava

SARGA THE SECOND.

1.2.1

viharati vane rādhā sādhāraṇa-praṇaye harau vigalita-nijotkarṣād īrṣyā-vaśena gatā'nyataḥ |
kvacid api latā-kuñje guñjan-madhu-vrata-maṇḍalī mukhara-śikhare līna dīnāpy uvāca rahaḥ sakhīm ||

While Hari sported in the forest, his love shared equally with all, Rādhā, feeling her own preeminence diminished, went elsewhere overcome with jealousy; / hidden in a vine bower whose topmost foliage hummed with swarms of bees, dejected though she was, she spoke in secret to her confidante:

Thus lingered Krishna in the deep, green wood,
And gave himself, too prodigal, to those;
But Radha, heart-sick at his falling-off,
Seeing her heavenly beauty slighted so,
Withdrew; and, in a bower of Paradise--
Where nectarous blossoms wove a shrine of shade,
Haunted by birds and bees of unknown skies--
She sate deep-sorrowful, and sang this strain,

1.2.1.p1

|| prabandhaḥ 5 ||

|| Lyric Composition 5

(What follows is to the Music GURJJARÎ and the Mode YATI.)

1.2.1.p2

gurjarī-rāgeṇa yati-tālena gīyate |

Sung in the rāga Gurjarī and the tāla Yati.

1.2.2

sañcarad-adhara-sudhā-madhura-dhvani-mukharita-mohana-vaṃśam |
calita-dṛg-añcala-cañcala-mauli-kapola-vilola-vataṃsam |
rāse harim iha vihita-vilāsaṃ smarati mano mama kṛta-parihāsam || dhru. ||

His enchanting flute resounding with the sweet tone of the nectar of his moving lips, / his head swaying with trembling glances from the corners of his eyes, his earrings dangling against his cheeks— / my mind remembers Hari here, laughing and sporting in the rāsa. || Refrain

Ah, my Beloved! taken with those glances,
Ah, my Beloved! dancing those rash dances,
Ah, Minstrel! playing wrongful strains so well;
Ah, Krishna! Krishna with the honeyed lip!
Ah, Wanderer into foolish fellowship!
My Dancer, my Delight!--I love thee still.

1.2.3

candraka-cāru-mayūra-śikhaṇḍaka-maṇḍala-valayita-keśam |
pracura-purandara-dhanur-anurañjita-medura-mudira-suveśam ||

His hair encircled with a crown of lovely eyes from peacock feathers, / splendidly arrayed like a dense cloud illuminated by an abundant rainbow;

O Dancer! strip thy peacock-crown away,
Rise! thou whose forehead is the star of day,
With beauty for its silver halo set;
Come! thou whose greatness gleams beneath its shroud
Like Indra's rainbow shining through the cloud--
Come, for I love thee, my Beloved! yet.

1.2.4

gopa-kadamba-nitambavatī-mukha-cumbana-lambhita-lobham |
bandhujīva-madhurādhara-pallavam ullasita-smita-śobham ||

Eagerly longing to kiss the faces of the shapely-hipped cowherd women, / the sprout of his sweet lower lip red as a bandhujīva flower, radiant with an open smile;

Must love thee--cannot choose but love thee ever,
My best Beloved--set on this endeavor,
To win thy tender heart and earnest eye
From lips but sadly sweet, from restless bosoms,
To mine, O Krishna with the mouth of blossoms!
To mine, thou soul of Krishna! yet I sigh

1.2.5

vipula-pulaka-bhuja-pallava-valayita-ballava-yuvati-sahasram |
kara-caraṇorasi maṇi-gaṇa-bhūṣaṇa-kiraṇa-vibhinna-tamisram ||

Encompassing thousands of young cowherd women with his sprout-like arms thrilled with intense horripilation, / dispelling the darkness with rays from the gem-encrusted ornaments on his hands, feet, and chest;

Half hopeless, thinking of myself forsaken,
And thee, dear Loiterer, in the wood o'ertaken
With passion for those bold and wanton ones,
Who knit thine arms as poison-plants gripe trees
With twining cords--their flowers the braveries
That flash in the green gloom, sparkling stars and stones.

1.2.6

jalada-paṭala-calad-indu-vinindaka-candana-tilaka-lalāṭam |
pīna-payodhara-parisara-mardana-nirdaya-hṛdaya-kapāṭam ||

His forehead marked with a sandal tilaka mocking the moon gliding through cloud banks, / the portal of his broad chest ruthless in pressing against the swell of full breasts;

My Prince! my Lotus-faced! my woe! my love!
Whose broad brow, with the tilka-spot above,
Shames the bright moon at full with fleck of cloud;
Thou to mistake so little for so much!
Thou, Krishna, to be palm to palm with such!
O Soul made for my joys, pure, perfect, proud!

1.2.7

maṇi-maya-makara-manohara-kuṇḍala-maṇḍita-gaṇḍam udāram |
pīta-vasanam anugata-muni-manuja-surāsura-vara-parivāram ||

Noble, his cheeks adorned with charming earrings shaped like jeweled sea-monsters, / clad in yellow garments, attended by an assembly of sages, mortals, gods, and demons;

Ah, my Beloved! in thy darkness dear;
Ah, Dancer! with the jewels in thine ear,
Swinging to music of a loveless love;
O my Beloved! in thy fall so high
That angels, sages, spirits of the sky
Linger about thee, watching in the grove.

1.2.8

viśada-kadamba-tale militaṃ kali-kaluṣa-bhayaṃ śamayantam |
mām api kim api tarala-taraṅgad-anaṅga-dṛśā manasā ramayantam ||

Gathered beneath a fair kadamba tree, removing fear born of the impurities of the Kali age, / and delighting me as well in his mind with eyes restless and trembling with love;

I will be patient still, and draw thee ever,
My one Beloved, sitting by the river
Under the thick kadambas with that throng:
Will there not come an end to earthly madness?
Shall I not, past the sorrow, have the gladness?
Must not the love-light shine for him ere long?

1.2.9

śrī-jayadeva-bhaṇitam atisundara-mohana-madhu-ripu-rūpam |
hari-caraṇa-smaraṇaṃ prati samprati puṇyavatām anurūpam ||

This utterance of illustrious Jayadeva, portraying the exceedingly beautiful and enchanting form of the enemy of Madhu, / is now suitable for the righteous to remember the feet of Hari.

Shine, thou Light by Radha given,
Shine, thou splendid star of heaven!
Be a lamp to Krishna's feet,
Show to all hearts secrets sweet,
Of the wonder and the love
Jayadev hath writ above.
Be the quick Interpreter
Unto wisest ears of her
Who always sings to all, "I wait,
He loveth still who loveth late."

1.2.10

gaṇayati guṇa-grāmaṃ bhāmaṃ bhrāmād api nehate vahati ca paritoṣaṃ doṣaṃ vimuñcati dūrataḥ |
NOTE: {bhrāmam}
yuvatiṣu valat-tṛṣṇe kṛṣṇe vihāriṇi māṃ vinā punar api mano vāmaṃ kāmaṃ karoti karomi kim ||

It counts his multitude of virtues, does not seek anger even by mistake, / carries contentment, and casts faults far away. / Though Kṛṣṇa's thirst roves among young women as he sports without me, / my contrary mind yet longs for him—what can I do?

For (sang on that high Lady in the shade)
My soul for tenderness, not blame, was made;
Mine eyes look through his evil to his good;
My heart coins pleas for him; my fervent thought
Prevents what he will say when these are naught,
And that which I am shall be understood.

1.2.10.p1

|| prabandhaḥ 6 ||

|| Song 6

(What follows is to the Music MÂLAVAGAUDA and the Mode EKATÂLÎ.)

1.2.10.p2

mālava-gauḍa-rāgena ekatālī-tālena ca gīyate |

Sung in the rāga Mālava-gauḍa and the tāla Ekatālī.

1.2.11

nibhṛta-nikuñja-gṛhaṃ gatayā niśi rahasi nilīya vasantam |
cakīta-vilokita-sakala-diśā rati-rabhasa-bhareṇa hasantam ||

To him who had entered a secluded bower-home and was dwelling hidden in secret at night, / glancing timidly in all directions, laughing in the rush of amorous passion—

Go to him,--win him hither,--whisper low
How he may find me if he searches well;
Say, if he will--joys past his hope to know
Await him here; go now to him, and tell
Where Radha is, and that henceforth she charms
His spirit to her arms.

1.2.11.p1

sakhi he keśī-mathanam udāram
ramaya mayā saha madana-manoratha-bhāvitayā sa-vikāram ||dhruvam ||

O friend, make the generous slayer of Keśin delight / passionately with me, who am transformed by the longing of desire! // Refrain

1.2.12

prathama-samāgama-lajjitayā paṭu-cāṭu-śatair anukūlam |
mṛdu-madhura-smita-bhāṣitayā śithilī-kṛta-jaghana-dukūlam ||

To him who was soothed with hundreds of clever flatteries when I was shy at our first encounter, / whose loin-cloth loosened as I spoke with a soft, sweet smile—

Yes, go! say, if he will, that he may come--
May come, my love, my longing, my desire;
May come forgiven, shriven, to me his home,
And make his happy peace; nay, and aspire
To uplift Radha's veil, and learn at length
What love is in its strength.

1.2.13

kīsala-śayana-niveśitayā ciram urasi mamaiva śayānam |
kṛta-parirambhaṇa-cumbanayā parirabhya kṛtādhara-pānam ||

To him who was placed upon a bed of tender sprouts and lay for a long time on my very breast, / who embraced me and drank my lower lip after I had embraced and kissed him—

Lead him; say softly I shall chide his blindness,
And vex him with my angers; yet add this,
He shall not vainly sue for loving-kindness,
Nor miss to see me close, nor lose the bliss
That lives upon my lip, nor be denied
The rose-throne at my side.

1.2.14

alasa-nimīlita-locanayā pulakāvali-lalita-kapolam |
śrama-jala-sakala-kalevarayā vara-madana-madād atilolam ||

To him whose cheeks were adorned with bristling hair while my eyes were languidly closed, / who grew utterly restless from the intoxicating frenzy of supreme desire while my whole body was wet with sweat—

Say that I--Radha--in my bower languish
All widowed, till he find the way to me;
Say that mine eyes are dim, my breast all anguish,
Until with gentle murmured shame I see
His steps come near, his anxious pleading face
Bend for my pardoning grace.

1.2.15

kokila-kala-rava-kūjitayā jita-manasija-tantra-vicāram |
ślatha-kusumākula-kuntalayā nakha-likhita-ghana-stana-bhāram ||

To him who mastered the lore of the mind-born god as I cooed with the soft sweet call of a cuckoo, / who scored my dense, heavy breasts with nails while my hair was disheveled with loosened flowers—

While I--what, did he deem light loves so tender,
To tarry for them when the vow was made
To yield him up my bosom's maiden splendour,
And fold him in my fragrance, and unbraid
My shining hair for him, and clasp him close
To the gold heart of his Rose?

1.2.16

caraṇa-raṇita-maṇi-nūpurayā paripūrita-surata-vitānam |
mukhara-viśṛṅkhala-mekhalayā sa-kaca-graha-cumbana-dānam ||

To him who fully spread the canopy of lovemaking as the jeweled anklets on my feet jingled, / who bestowed kisses while grasping my hair as my jingling girdle came loose—

And sing him strains which only spirits know,
And make him captive with the silk-soft chain
Of twinned-wings brooding round him, and bestow
Kisses of Paradise, as pure as rain;
My gems, my moonlight-pearls, my girdle-gold,
Cymbaling music bold?

1.2.17

rati-sukha-samaya-rasālasayā dara-mukulita-nayana-sarojam |
niḥsaha-nipatita-tanu-latayā madhusūdanam udita-manojam ||

To him whose lotus eyes were half-closed, languid with the flavor of the time of erotic pleasure, / to Madhusūdana, whose desire was awakened as my creeper-like body fell down helplessly—

While gained for ever, I shall dare to grow
Life to life with him, in the realms divine;
And--Love's large cup at happy overflow,
Yet ever to be filled--his eyes and mine
Will meet in that glad look, when Time's great gate
Closes and shuts out Fate.

1.2.18

śrī-jayadeva-bhaṇitam idam atiśaya-madhu-ripu-nidhuvana-śīlam |
sukham utkaṇṭhita-gopa-vadhū-kathitaṃ vitanotu salīlaṃ ||

May this utterance of Śrī Jayadeva, portraying the consummate love-play of the enemy of Madhu, / playfully spread joy as told by the longing cowherd maiden.

Listen to the unsaid things
Of the song that Radha sings,
For the soul draws near to bliss,
As it comprehendeth this.
I am Jayadev, who write
All this subtle-rich delight
For your teaching. Ponder, then,
What it tells to Gods and men.
Err not, watching Krishna gay,
With those brown girls all at play;
Understand how Radha charms
Her wandering lover to her arms,
Waiting with divinest love
Till his dream ends in the grove.

1.2.19

hasta-srasta-vilāsa-vaṃśam anṛju-bhrū-vallimad-ballavī-vṛndotsāri-dṛganta-vīkṣitam atisvedārdra-gaṇḍa-sthalam |
mām udvīkṣya vilajjitaṃ smṛta-sudhā-mugdhānana-kānane govindaṃ vraja-sundarī-gaṇa-vṛtaṃ paśyāmi hṛṣyāmi ca ||

His playful flute slipped from his hand; his sidelong glances were turned aside by the cowherd women with curved eyebrow-creepers; his cheek was moist with excessive sweat. / Seeing me, he was embarrassed, his sweet mouth in the forest charming with memories of nectar: I behold Govinda surrounded by the beauties of Vraja, and I rejoice.

For even now (she sang) I see him pause,
Heart-stricken with the waste of heart he makes
Amid them;--all the bows of their bent brows
Wound him no more: no more for all their sakes
Plays he one note upon his amorous lute,
But lets the strings lie mute.

1.2.20

durāloka-stoka-stavaka-navakāśoka-latikā-vikāsaḥ kāsāropavana-pavano'pi vyathayati |
api bhrāmyad-bhṛṅgī-raṇita-ramaṇīyā na mukula-prasūtiś cūtānāṃ sakhi śikhariṇīyaṃ sukhayati ||

Even the wind from the garden pool pains me with the blossoming of fresh aśoka creepers with small, dazzling clusters; / and, O friend, this crowned sprout of mangoes, lovely with the humming of wandering bees, brings no joy.

"My feet with the dances are weary,
The music has dropped from the song,
There is no more delight in the lute-strings,
Sweet Shadows! what thing has gone wrong?
The wings of the wind have left fanning
The palms of the glade;
They are dead, and the blossoms seem dying
In the place where we played.

1.2.21

sakūta-smitam ākulākula-galad-dhammillam ullāsita-bhrū-vallīkam alīka-darśita-bhujā-mūlārdha-hasta-stanam |
gopīnāṃ nibhṛtaṃ nirīkṣya gamitākāṅkṣaś ciraṃ cintayann antar mugdha-manoharaṃ haratu vaḥ kleśaṃ navaḥ keśavaḥ ||

Having secretly observed the gopīs with meaningful smiles, their braid-knots utterly loose and falling, their eyebrow-creepers raised, and their armpits and half their breasts deceitfully exposed with hands; and having his desire awakened, long meditating within on what is enchantingly lovely: may the youthful Keśava remove your distress!

(Here ends that Sarga of the Gîta Govinda entitled KLESHAKESHAVO.)

1.2.21.p1

iti śrī-gīta-govinda-mahā-kāvye akleśa-keśavo nāma
dvitīyaḥ sargaḥ
||2||

Thus ends the second canto, entitled “Unvexed Keśava,” in the great poem Gītagovinda.
|| 2

1.2.21.p2

(3)
tṛtīyaḥ sargaḥ
mugdha-madhusūdanaḥ

(3)
Third Canto
Enamored Madhusūdana

SARGA THE THIRD.

1.3.1

kaṃsārir api saṃsāra-vāsanābaddha-śṛṅkhalām |
NOTE: {vāsanābaddha- iti caitanya-caritāmṛtasya pāṭhaḥ.}
rādhām ādhāya hṛdaye tatyāja vraja-sundarīḥ ||

Placing in his heart Rādhā, who was the bond of the chain of his worldly longing, / even the enemy of Kaṃsa abandoned the beauties of Vraja.

Thereat,--as one who welcomes to her throne
A new-made Queen, and brings before it bound
Her enemies,--so Krishna in his heart
Throned Radha; and--all treasonous follies chained--
He played no more with those first play-fellows:
But, searching through the shadows of the grove
For loveliest Radha,--when he found her not,
Faint with the quest, despairing, lonely, lorn,
And pierced with shame for wasted love and days,
He sate by Jumna, where the canes are thick,
And sang to the wood-echoes words like these:

1.3.2

itas tatas tām anusṛtya rādhikām anaṅga-bāṇa-vraṇa-khinna-mānasaḥ |
kṛtānutāpaḥ sa kalinda-nandinī-taṭānta-kuñje viṣasāda mādhavaḥ ||

Following after that Rādhikā here and there, his mind afflicted by the wounds of the Bodiless One's arrows, / full of repentance, Mādhava sat despondent in a bower on the bank of the daughter of Kalinda.

Thereat,--as one who welcomes to her throne
A new-made Queen, and brings before it bound
Her enemies,--so Krishna in his heart
Throned Radha; and--all treasonous follies chained--
He played no more with those first play-fellows:
But, searching through the shadows of the grove
For loveliest Radha,--when he found her not,
Faint with the quest, despairing, lonely, lorn,
And pierced with shame for wasted love and days,
He sate by Jumna, where the canes are thick,
And sang to the wood-echoes words like these:

1.3.2.p1

|| prabandhaḥ 7 ||

|| Song 7

(What follows is to the Music GURJJARÎ and to the Mode YATI)

Thereat,--as one who welcomes to her throne
A new-made Queen, and brings before it bound
Her enemies,--so Krishna in his heart
Throned Radha; and--all treasonous follies chained--
He played no more with those first play-fellows:
But, searching through the shadows of the grove
For loveliest Radha,--when he found her not,
Faint with the quest, despairing, lonely, lorn,
And pierced with shame for wasted love and days,
He sate by Jumna, where the canes are thick,
And sang to the wood-echoes words like these:

1.3.2.p2

gurjarī-rāga-yati-tālābhyāṃ gīyate |

Sung in the rāga Gurjarī and the tāla Yati.

Thereat,--as one who welcomes to her throne
A new-made Queen, and brings before it bound
Her enemies,--so Krishna in his heart
Throned Radha; and--all treasonous follies chained--
He played no more with those first play-fellows:
But, searching through the shadows of the grove
For loveliest Radha,--when he found her not,
Faint with the quest, despairing, lonely, lorn,
And pierced with shame for wasted love and days,
He sate by Jumna, where the canes are thick,
And sang to the wood-echoes words like these:

1.3.3

mām iyaṃ calitā vilokya vṛtaṃ vadhū-nicayena |
sāparādhatayā mayāpi na vāritā'tibhayena ||

“Seeing me surrounded by a throng of young women, she departed; / and being in the wrong, I too did not restrain her out of great fear.

Radha, Enchantress! Radha, queen of all!
Gone--lost, because she found me sinning here;
And I so stricken with my foolish fall,
I could not stay her out of shame and fear;
She will not hear;
In her disdain and grief vainly I call.

1.3.3.p1

hari hari hatādaratayā gatā sā kupiteva ||dhruva-padam ||

Hari, Hari! Because my regard was ruined, she went away as if enraged! // Refrain

1.3.4

kiṃ kariṣyati kiṃ vadiṣyati sā ciraṃ viraheṇa |
kiṃ dhanena janena kiṃ mama jīvitena gṛheṇa ||

What will she do? What will she say after long separation? / What use is wealth to me, what use are people, what use is my life, what use is my home?

And if she heard, what would she do? what say?
How could I make it good that I forgot?
What profit was it to me, night and day,
To live, love, dance, and dream, having her not?
Soul without spot!
I wronged thy patience, till it sighed away.

1.3.5

cintayāmi tad-ānanaṃ kuṭila-bhru kopa-bhareṇa |
śona-padmam ivopari-bhramatākulaṃ bhramareṇa ||

I imagine her face with knitted brows from the weight of anger, / like a red lotus agitated by a bee hovering above it.

Sadly I know the truth. Ah! even now
Remembering that one look beside the river,
Softer the vexed eyes seem, and the proud brow
Than lotus-leaves when the bees make them quiver.
My love for ever!
Too late is Krishna wise--too far art thou!

1.3.6

tām ahaṃ hṛdi saṅgatām aniśaṃ bhṛśaṃ ramayāmi |
kiṃ vane'nusarāmi tām iha kiṃ vṛthā vilapāmi ||

I constantly and deeply take delight in her who has entered my heart; / why do I follow her into the forest, why do I lament here in vain?

Yet all day long in my deep heart I woo thee,
And all night long with thee my dreams are sweet;
Why, then, so vainly must my steps pursue thee?
Why can I never reach thee, to entreat,
Low at thy feet,
Dear vanished Splendour! till my tears subdue thee?

1.3.7

tanvi khinnam asūyayā hṛdayaṃ tavākalayāmi |
tan na vedmi kuto gatāsi na tena te'nunayāmi ||

O slender woman, I know your heart is pained with resentment; / yet I do not know where you have gone, and so I cannot conciliate you.

Surpassing One! I knew thou didst not brook
Half-hearted worship, and a love that wavers;
Haho! there is the wisdom I mistook,
Therefore I seek with desperate endeavours;
That fault dissevers
Me from my heaven, astray--condemned--forsook!

1.3.8

dṛśyase purato gatāgatam eva me vidadhāsi |
kiṃ pureva sasambhramaṃ parirambhaṇaṃ na dadāsi ||

You appear before me, coming and going before my eyes; / why do you not give me a passionate embrace as before?

And yet I seem to feel, to know, thee near me;
Thy steps make music, measured music, near:
Radha! my Radha! will not sorrow clear me?
Shine once! speak one word pitiful and dear!
Wilt thou not hear?
Canst thou--because I did forget--forsake me?

1.3.9

kṣamyatām aparaṃ kadāpi tavedṛśaṃ na karomi |
dehi sundari darśanaṃ mama manmathena dunomi ||

Forgive me! I will never again do such a thing to you; / show yourself, O beautiful one, for I am tormented by Manmatha.”

Forgive! the sin is sinned, is past, is over;
No thought I think shall do thee wrong again;
Turn thy dark eyes again upon thy lover
Bright Spirit! or I perish of this pain.
Loving again!
In dread of doom to love, but not recover.

1.3.10

varṇitaṃ jayadevakena harer idaṃ praṇatena |
NOTE: {pravaṇena}
kindubilva-samudra-sambhava-rohiṇī-ramaṇena ||

This was composed about Hari by humble Jayadeva, / the moon born from the ocean of Kindubilva.

So did Krishna sing and sigh
By the river-bank; and I,
Jayadev of Kinduvilva,
Resting--as the moon of silver
Sits upon the solemn ocean--
On full faith, in deep devotion;
Tell it that ye may perceive
How the heart must fret and grieve;
How the soul doth tire of earth,
When the love from Heav'n hath birth.

1.3.11

hṛdi bisa-latā-hāro nāyaṃ bhujaṅgama-nāyakaḥ kuvalaya-dala-śreṇī kaṇṭhe na sā garala-dyutiḥ |
malayaja-rajo nedaṃ bhasma priyā-rahite mayi prahara na hara-bhrāntyā'naṅga krudhā kim u dhāvasi ||

“This garland of lotus-fibers on my heart is not the king of serpents; the row of blue lotus petals on my neck is not the luster of poison; / this sandal-powder is not ash: why do you rush in wrath, O Bodiless One, to strike at me bereft of my beloved, mistaking me for Hara?

For (sang he on) I am no foe of thine,
There is no black snake, Kama! in my hair;
Blue lotus-bloom, and not the poisoned brine,
Shadows my neck; what stains my bosom bare,
Thou God unfair!
Is sandal-dust, not ashes; nought of mine.