Gita Govinda 1.7

1.7.1

atrāntare ca kulaṭā-kula-vartma-ghāṭa-sañjāta-pātaka iva sphuṭa-lāñchana-śrīḥ |
NOTE: {pāta- iti pāṭhāntaraḥ.}
vṛndāvanāntaram adīpayad aṃśu-jālair dik-sundarī-vadana-candana-bindur induḥ ||

Meanwhile, as if bearing a sin born from obstructing the path of unchaste women, its mark distinctly visible,
Note: [pāta- is a variant reading]
the moon, like a drop of sandalwood on the face of the maiden of the quarters, illuminated the interior of Vṛndāvana with rays of light.

Meantime the moon, the rolling moon, clomb high,
And over all Vrindávana it shone;
The moon which on the front of gentle night
Gleams like the chundun-mark on beauty's brow;
The conscious moon which hath its silver face
Marred with the shame of lighting earthly loves:

1.7.2

prasarati śaśa-dhara-bimbe vihita-vilambe ca mādhave vidhurā |
viracita-vividha-vilāpaṃ saparitāpaṃ cakāroccaiḥ ||

As the moon's orb spread its light and Mādhava lingered,
the distraught maiden, burning with grief, raised a manifold lament aloud:

And while the round white lamp of earth rose higher,
And still he tarried, Radha, petulant,
Sang soft impatience and half-earnest fears:

1.7.2.p1

|| prabandhaḥ 13 ||

|| Lyric Composition 13

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

1.7.2.p2

mālava-rāga-yati-tālābhyāṃ gīyate |
NOTE: {pratimaṇṭha-}

Sung in the melodic mode Mālava and the rhythmic meter Yati.
Note: [Pratimaṇṭha-]

1.7.3

kathita-samaye'pi harir ahaha na yayau vanam |
mama viphalam idam amala-rūpam api yauvanam ||

Even at the appointed time, alas, Hari has not come to the forest;
this flawless beauty of mine and my youth are in vain.

'Tis time!--he comes not!--will he come?
Can he leave me thus to pine?
Yami hê kam sharanam!
Ah! what refuge then is mine?

1.7.3.p1

yāmi he kam iha śaraṇaṃ sakhī-jana-vacana-vañcitā ||dhruva||||

To whom shall I go for refuge here, betrayed by the words of my confidantes? || Refrain

1.7.4

yad-anugamanāya niśi gahanam api śīlitam |
tena mama hṛdayam idam asama-śara-kīlitam ||

To follow him I braved even the deep forest at night;
by him this heart of mine has been pierced by the uneven arrows [of love].

For his sake I sought the wood,
Threaded dark and devious ways;
Yami hê kam sharanam!
Can it be Krishna betrays?

1.7.5

mama maraṇam eva varam iti vitatha-ketanā |
NOTE: {iha iti ni-pāṭhāntaraḥ.}
NOTE: {ativitatha-cetaneti ṭīkā-dhṛta-pāṭhāntaraḥ.}
kim iha viṣahāmi virahānalam acetanā ||

“My death alone is preferable,”—thus disappointed in her meeting place,
Note: [iha is an alternative reading for iti]
Note: [ativitatha-cetanā is a variant reading preserved in the commentary]
how can I, insensible with grief, endure here the fire of separation?

Let me die then, and forget
Anguish, patience, hope, and fear;
Yami hê kam sharanam!
Ah, why have I held him dear?

1.7.6

mām ahaha vidhurayati madhura-madhu-yāminī |
kāpi harim anubhavati kṛta-sukṛta-kāminī ||

"Alas, the sweet spring night tortures me, / while some passionate woman of meritorious deeds enjoys Hari.

Ah, this soft night torments me,
Thinking that his faithless arms--
Yami hê kam sharanam!--
Clasp some shadow of my charms.

1.7.7

ahaha kalayāmi valayādi-maṇi-bhūṣaṇam |
hari-viraha-dahana-vahanena bahu-dūṣaṇam ||

Alas, I consider jeweled ornaments like bracelets / to be a great affliction through bearing the burning fire of separation from Hari.

Fatal shadow--foolish mock!
When the great love shone confessed;--
Yami hê kam sharanam!
Krishna's lotus loads my breast;

1.7.8

kusuma-sukumāra-tanum atanu-śara-līlayā |
srag api hṛdi hanti mām ativiṣama-śilayā ||

Upon my body, delicate as a flower, by the play of the Bodiless One's arrows, / even a garland strikes me upon the heart like a most jagged stone.

'Tis too heavy, lacking him;
Like a broken flower I am--
Necklets, jewels, what are ye?
Yami hê kam sharanam!

1.7.9

aham iha nivasāmi na-gaṇita-vana-vetasā |
smarati madhusūdano mām api na cetasā ||

Here I dwell, ignoring the reeds of the forest, / yet Madhusūdana does not remember me even in his mind."

Yami hê kam sharanam!
The sky is still, the forest sleeps;
Krishna forgets--he loves no more;
He fails in faith, and Radha weeps.

1.7.10

hari-caraṇa-śaraṇa-jayadeva-kavi-bhāratī |
vasatu hṛdi yuvatir iva komala-kalāvatī ||

May the speech of the poet Jayadeva, whose refuge is Hari's feet, / dwell in the heart like a tender maiden skilled in the arts.

But the poet Jayadev--
He who is great Hari's slave,
He who finds asylum sweet
Only at great Hari's feet;
He who for your comfort sings
All this to the Vina's strings--
Prays that Radha's tender moan
In your hearts be thought upon,
And that all her holy grace
Live there like the loved one's face.

1.7.11

tat kiṃ kām api kāminīm abhisṛtaḥ kiṃ vā kalā-kelibhir baddho bandhubhir andhakāriṇi vanābhyarṇe kim udbhrāmyati |
kāntaḥ klānta-manā manāg api pathi prasthātum evākṣamaḥ saṅketī-kṛta-mañju-vāñjula-latā-kuñje'pi yan nāgataḥ ||

"Has he gone to meet some other passionate woman? Or is he held fast by friends with artistic games? / Does he wander in the dark forest near here? / Is my beloved weary-minded, unable to walk even a little along the path, / since he has not come even to the bower of charming vāñjula creepers agreed upon for our rendezvous?"

Yet, if I wrong him! (sang she)--can he fail?
Could any in the wood win back his kisses?
Could any softest lips of earth prevail
To hold him from my arms? any love-blisses

Blind him once more to mine? O Soul, my prize!
Art thou not merely hindered at this hour?
Sore-wearied, wandering, lost? how otherwise
Shouldst thou not hasten to the bridal-bower?

1.7.12

athāgatāṃ mādhavam antareṇa sakhīm iyaṃ vīkṣya viṣāda-mūkām |
viśaṅkamānā ramitaṃ kayāpi janārdanaṃ dṛṣṭavad etad āha ||

Then, seeing her confidante returned without Mādhava, silent with despondency, / she, suspecting that Janārdana was dallying with another woman, spoke this as if she had seen it:

But seeing far away that Maiden come
Alone, with eyes cast down and lingering steps,
Again a little while she feared to hear
Of Krishna false; and her quick thoughts took shape
In a fine jealousy, with words like these--

1.7.12.p1

|| prabandhaḥ 14 ||

|| Lyric Composition 14

Something then of earth has held him
From his home above,
Some one of those slight deceivers--
Ah, my foolish love!

1.7.12.p2

vasanta-rāga-yati-tālābhyāṃ gīyate |

Sung in the melodic mode Vasanta and the rhythmic meter Yati.

1.7.13

smara-samarocita-viracita-veśā |
galita-kusuma-dara-vilulita-keśā ||

Her adornment fashioned fit for the battle of Smara, / her hair slightly disheveled with fallen flowers,

Some new face, some winsome playmate,
With her hair untied,
And the blossoms tangled in it,
Woos him to her side.

1.7.13.p1

kāpi madhuripuṇā vilasati yuvatir adhika-guṇā ||dhruva||||

some young woman of superior charms sports with the foe of Madhu. ||Refrain

1.7.14

hari-parirambhana-calita-vikārā |
NOTE: {valita iti ni-pāṭhāntaraḥ.}
kuca-kalaśopari taralita-hārā ||

Her passions stirred by Hari's embrace, / her necklace swaying over her pitcher-like breasts,

On the dark orbs of her bosom--
Passionately heaved--
Sink and rise the warm, white pearl-strings,
Oh, my love deceived!

1.7.15

vicalad-alaka-lalitānana-candrā |
tad-adhara-pāna-rabhasa-kṛta-tandrā ||

the moon of her face made lovely by tremulous curls, / overcome with languor from the haste of drinking his lips,

Fair? yes, yes! the rippled shadow
Of that midnight hair
Shows above her brow--as clouds do
O'er the moon--most fair:

1.7.16

cañcala-kuṇḍala-dalita-kapolā |
mukharita-raśana-jaghana-gati-lolā ||

her cheeks grazed by dangling earrings, / swaying in the movement of her hips whose girdle of bells rings out,

And she knows, with wilful paces,
How to make her zone
Gleam and please him; and her ear-rings
Tinkle love; and grown

1.7.17

dayita-vilokita-lajjita-hasitā |
bahu-vidha-kūjita-rati-rasa-rasitā ||

smiling with bashfulness when looked at by her lover, / murmuring in many ways, relishing the aesthetic flavor of amorous pleasure,

Coy as he grows fond, she meets him
With a modest show;
Shaming truth with truthful seeming,
While her laugh--light, low--

And her subtle mouth that murmurs.
And her silken cheek,
And her eyes, say she dissembles
Plain as speech could speak.

1.7.18

vipula-pulaka-pṛthu-vepathu-bhaṅgā |
śvasita-nimīlita-vikasad-anaṅgā ||

interrupted by broad horripilation and violent trembling, / sighs and half-closed eyes revealing mind-born love,

And her subtle mouth that murmurs.
And her silken cheek,
And her eyes, say she dissembles
Plain as speech could speak.

1.7.19

śrama-jala-kaṇa-bhara-subhaga-śarīrā |
paripatitorasi rati-raṇa-dhīrā ||

her body lovely under a shower of perspiration drops, / fallen upon his chest, brave in the battle of amorous pleasure!

Till at length, a fatal victress,
Of her triumph vain,
On his neck she lies and smiles there:--
Ah, my Joy!--my Pain!

1.7.20

śrī-jayadeva-bhaṇita-hari-ramitam |
kali-kaluṣaṃ janayatu pariśamitam ||

May Hari's dalliance, sung by the illustrious Jayadeva, / bring about the complete pacification of the impurities of the Kali age.

But may Radha's fond annoy,
And may Krishna's dawning joy,
Warm and waken love more fit--
Jayadeva prayeth it--
And the griefs and sins assuage
Of this blind and evil age.

1.7.21

viraha-pāṇḍu-murāri-mukhāmbuja-dyutir ayaṃ tirayann api vedanām |
vidhur atīva tanoti mano-bhuvaḥ suhṛd aye hṛdaye madana-vyathām ||

Having the luster of Murāri's lotus face pale in separation, yet veiling its pain, / this moon, the friend of mind-born love, intensifies to the utmost the torment of Madana in my heart, alas!

O Moon! (she sang) that art so pure and pale,
Is Krishna wan like thee with lonely waiting?
O lamp of love! art thou the lover's friend,
And wilt not bring him, my long pain abating?
O fruitless moon! thou dost increase my pain
O faithless Krishna! I have striven in vain.
And then, lost in her fancies sad, she moaned--

1.7.21.p1

|| prabandhaḥ 15 ||

|| Lyric Composition 15

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

1.7.21.p2

gurjarī-rāgaika-tāli-tālena gīyate |

Sung in the melodic mode Gurjarī and the rhythmic meter Ekatālī.

1.7.22

samudita-madane ramaṇī-vadane cumbana-valitādhare |
mṛga-mada-tilakaṃ likhati sapulakaṃ mṛgam iva rajanī-kare ||

When Madana has arisen on the lovely woman's face, her lips turned for a kiss, / thrilling with joy, he paints a musk forehead mark, like the hare on the moon.

In vain, in vain!
Earth will of earth! I mourn more than I blame;
If he had known, he would not sit and paint
The tilka on her smooth black brow, nor claim
Quick kisses from her yielded lips--false, faint--
False, fragrant, fatal! Krishna's quest is o'er
By Jumna's shore!

1.7.22.p1

ramate yamunā-pulina-vane vijayī murārir adhunā ||dhruva||||

Now the victorious Murāri sports in the groves of the Yamunā's banks. ||Refrain

1.7.23

ghana-caya-rucire racayati cikure taralita-taruṇānane |
kurubaka-kusumaṃ capalā suṣamaṃ rati-pati-mṛga-kānane ||

In her locks of hair charming as a cluster of clouds, over her trembling youthful face, / he arranges kurubaka blossoms with lightning-like splendor in the deer forest of the Lord of Amorous Pleasure.

Vain--it was vain!
The temptress was too near, the heav'n too far;
I can but weep because he sits and ties
Garlands of fire-flowers for her loosened hair,
And in its silken shadow veils his eyes
And buries his fond face. Yet I forgave
By Jumna's wave!

1.7.24

ghaṭayati sughane kuca-yuga-gagaṇe mṛga-mada-ruci-rūṣite |
maṇi-saram amalaṃ tāraka-paṭalaṃ nakha-pada-śaśi-bhūṣite ||

Upon the sky of her pair of firm breasts, smeared with the sheen of musk / and adorned with the moons of nail-marks, he sets an immaculate pearl necklace, a cluster of stars.

Vainly! all vain!
Make then the most of that whereto thou'rt given,
Feign her thy Paradise--thy Love of loves;
Say that her eyes are stars, her face the heaven,
Her bosoms the two worlds, with sandal-groves
Full-scented, and the kiss-marks--ah, thy dream
By Jumna's stream!

1.7.25

jita-bisa-śakale mṛdu-bhuja-yugale kara-tala-nalinī-dale |
marakata-valayaṃ madhukara-nicayaṃ vitarati hima-śītale ||

Upon her pair of tender arms, which surpass lotus-stalks, with palms like lotus leaves, / soothing as snow, he bestows emerald bracelets, like a swarm of bees.

It shall be vain!
And vain to string the emeralds on her arm,
And hang the milky pearls upon her neck,
Saying they are not jewels, but a swarm
Of crowded, glossy bees, come there to suck
The rosebuds of her breast, the sweetest flowers
Of Jumna's bowers.

1.7.26

rati-gṛha-jaghane vipulāpaghane manasija-kanakāsane |
maṇi-maya-raśanaṃ toraṇa-hasanaṃ vikirati kṛta-vāsane ||

On her broad hips, the chamber of amorous pleasure, the golden throne of mind-born love, / adorned with fragrant unguents, he drapes a jeweled girdle that derides an archway.

That shall be vain!
Nor wilt thou so believe thine own blind wooing,
Nor slake thy heart's thirst even with the cup
Which at the last she brims for thee, undoing
Her girdle of carved gold, and yielding up,
Love's uttermost: brief the poor gain and pride
By Jumna's tide

1.7.27

caraṇa-kiśalaye kamalā-nilaye nakha-maṇi-gaṇa-pūjite |
bahir-apavaraṇaṃ yāvaka-bharaṇaṃ janayati hṛdi yojite ||

On her sprout-like feet, the dwelling of Kamalā, worshiped by rows of jewel-like nails, / when joined to his chest, he applies an outer coating, an adornment of red lac.

Because still vain
Is love that feeds on shadow; vain, as thou dost,
To look so deep into the phantom eyes
For that which lives not there; and vain, as thou must,
To marvel why the painted pleasure flies,
When the fair, false wings seemed folded for ever
By Jumna's river.

1.7.28

ramayati subhṛśaṃ kam api sudṛśaṃ khala-haladhara-sodare |
kim aphalam avasaṃ ciram iha virasaṃ vada sakhi viṭapodare ||

While the brother of Haladhara, rogue that he is, delights some beautiful-eyed woman intensely, / tell me, confidante, why have I dwelt here in vain for so long, tasteless in the hollow of a tree?

And vain! yes, vain!
For me too is it, having so much striven,
To see this slight snare take thee, and thy soul
Which should have climbed to mine, and shared my heaven,
Spent on a lower loveliness, whose whole
Passion of claim were but a parody
Of that kept here for thee.

Ahaha! vain!
For on some isle of Jumna's silver stream
He gives all that they ask to those hard eyes,
While mine which are his angel's, mine which gleam
With light that might have led him to the skies--
That almost led him--are eclipsed with tears
Wailing my fruitless prayers.

1.7.29

iha rasa-bhaṇane kṛta-hari-guṇane madhuripu-pada-sevake |
kali-yuga-caritaṃ na vasatu duritaṃ kavi-nṛpa-jayadevake ||

In this recitation of aesthetic flavor, this recitation of Hari's virtues, in the king of poets Jayadeva, / servant of the feet of Madhu's foe, let not the evil deed of the Kali age dwell!

O great Hari! purge from wrong
The soul of him who writes this song;
Purge the souls of those that read
From every fault of thought and deed;
With thy blessed light assuage
The darkness of this evil age!
Jayadev the bard of love,
Servant of the Gods above,
Prays it for himself and you--
Gentle hearts who listen!--too.

1.7.29.p1

NOTE: {racitam iti kvacit dṛśyate.}

[Note: {“composed” is seen in some places.}]

O great Hari! purge from wrong
The soul of him who writes this song;
Purge the souls of those that read
From every fault of thought and deed;
With thy blessed light assuage
The darkness of this evil age!
Jayadev the bard of love,
Servant of the Gods above,
Prays it for himself and you--
Gentle hearts who listen!--too.

1.7.30

nāyātaḥ sakhi nirdayo yadi śaṭhas tvaṃ dūti kiṃ dūyase svacchandaṃ bahu-vallabhaḥ sa ramate kiṃ tatra te dūṣaṇam |
paśyādya priya-saṅgamāya dayitasyākṛṣyamāṇaṃ guṇair utkaṇṭhārti-bharād iva sphuṭad idaṃ cetaḥ svayam yāsyati ||

"Confidante, if that cruel cheat has not come, messenger, why are you distressed? / He enjoys himself at will, beloved of many; what fault of yours is there in that? / Look, drawn by the virtues of my beloved, / this heart of mine will go of itself today for union with my darling, as if bursting from the weight of longing's agony!"

O great Hari! purge from wrong
The soul of him who writes this song;
Purge the souls of those that read
From every fault of thought and deed;
With thy blessed light assuage
The darkness of this evil age!
Jayadev the bard of love,
Servant of the Gods above,
Prays it for himself and you--
Gentle hearts who listen!--too.

1.7.30.p1

|| prabandhaḥ 16 ||

|| Lyric Composition 16

(What follows is to the Music DESHAVARÂDÎ and the Mode RUPAKA.)

O great Hari! purge from wrong
The soul of him who writes this song;
Purge the souls of those that read
From every fault of thought and deed;
With thy blessed light assuage
The darkness of this evil age!
Jayadev the bard of love,
Servant of the Gods above,
Prays it for himself and you--
Gentle hearts who listen!--too.

1.7.30.p2

deśavarāḍi-rāgeṇa rūpaka-tālena gīyate |

Sung in the melodic mode Deśavarāḍī and the rhythmic meter Rūpaka.

O great Hari! purge from wrong
The soul of him who writes this song;
Purge the souls of those that read
From every fault of thought and deed;
With thy blessed light assuage
The darkness of this evil age!
Jayadev the bard of love,
Servant of the Gods above,
Prays it for himself and you--
Gentle hearts who listen!--too.

1.7.31

anila-tarala-kuvalaya-nayanena |
tapati na sā kiśalaya-śayanena ||

"By him whose eyes are blue lotuses fluttering in the wind, / she does not burn on a bed of sprout-leaves,

She, not Radha, wins the crown
Whose false lips seemed dearest;
What was distant gain to him
When sweet loss stood nearest?
Love her, therefore, lulled to loss
On her fatal bosom;
Love her with such love as she
Can give back in the blossom.

1.7.31.p1

sakhi yā ramitā vana-mālinā ||dhruva-padam ||

O confidante, she who is enjoyed by the wearer of wild-flower garlands! ||Refrain

1.7.32

vikasita-sarasija-lalita-mukhena |
sphuṭati na sā manasija-viśikhena ||

By him whose face is charming as a blooming lotus, / she is not pierced by the arrows of mind-born love.

Love her, O thou rash lost soul!
With thy thousand graces;
Coin rare thoughts into fair words
For her face of faces;
Praise it, fling away for it
Life's purpose in a sigh,
All for those lips like flower-leaves,
And lotus-dark deep eye.

1.7.33

amṛta-madhura-mṛdu-tara-vacanena |
jvalati na sā malayaja-pavanena ||

By him whose speech is softer and sweeter than nectar, / she does not burn from the sandal-scented breeze.

Nay, and thou shalt be happy too
Till the fond dream is over;
And she shall taste delight to hear
The wooing of her lover;
The breeze that brings the sandal up
From distant green Malay,
Shall seem all fragrance in the night,
All coolness in the day.

1.7.34

sthala-jala-ruha-ruci-kara-caraṇena |
luṭhati na sā hima-kara-kiraṇena ||

By him whose hands and feet have the beauty of land and water lotuses, / she does not writhe beneath the rays of the cold-maker moon.

The crescent moon shall seem to swim
Only that she may see
The glad eyes of my Krishna gleam,
And her soft glances he:
It shall be as a silver lamp
Set in the sky to show
The rose-leaf palms that cling and clasp,
And the breast that beats below.

1.7.35

sajala-jalada-samudaya-rucireṇa |
dalati na sā hṛdi cira-viraheṇa ||

By him who is lovely as a mass of rainclouds, / she does not shatter in her heart from prolonged separation.

The thought of parting shall not lie
Cold on their throbbing lives,
The dread of ending shall not chill
The glow beginning gives;
She in her beauty dark shall look--
As long as clouds can be--
As gracious as the rain-time cloud
Kissing the shining sea.

1.7.35.p1

NOTE: {viraha-bhareṇa iti haridāsa-saṃskaraṇe }

[Note: {“from the weight of separation” in Haridāsa's edition.}]

1.7.36

kanaka-nikaṣa-ruci-śuci-vasanena |
śvasiti na sā parijana-hasanena ||

By him whose pure garment has the luster of a golden streak on a touchstone, / she does not sigh under the mocking laughter of companions.

And he, amid his playmates old,
At least a little while,
Shall not breathe forth again the sigh
That spoils the song and smile;
Shall be left wholly to his choice,
Free for his pleasant sin,
With the golden-girdled damsels
Of the bowers I found him in.

1.7.37

sakala-bhuvana-jana-vara-taruṇena |
vahati na sā rujam atikaruṇena ||

By him who is the finest youth among the people of all the worlds, / she does not bear a most pitiable affliction.

For me, his Angel, only
The sorrow and the smart,
The pale grief sitting on the brow,
The dead hope in the heart;
For me the loss of losing,
For me the ache and dearth;
My king crowned with the wood-flowers!
My fairest upon earth!

1.7.38

śrī-jayadeva-bhaṇita-vacanena |
praviśatu harir api hṛdayam anena ||

Through these words uttered by the illustrious Jayadeva, / may Hari also enter the heart!"

Hari, Lord and King of love!
From thy throne of light above
Stoop to help us, deign to take
Our spirits to thee for the sake
Of this song, which speaks the fears
Of all who weep with Radha's tears.

1.7.39

mano-bhavānandana candanānila prasīda re dakṣiṇa muñca vāmatām |
kṣaṇaṃ jagat-prāṇa nidāya mādhavaṃ puro mama prāṇa-haro bhaviṣyasi ||

"O delighter of mind-born love! O sandal breeze from the south, be gracious! Abandon your perversity! / O breath of the world, having placed Mādhava before me for a moment, you may take my life!"

But love is strong to pardon, slow to part,
And still the Lady, in her fancies, sang--
Wind of the Indian stream!
A little--oh! a little--breathe once more
The fragrance like his mouth's! blow from thy shore
One last word as he fades into a dream;

Bodiless Lord of love!
Show him once more to me a minute's space,
My Krishna, with the love-look in his face,
And then I come to my own place above;

1.7.39.p1

NOTE: {nidhāya iti ni-pāṭhāntaraḥ.}

[Note: {“having placed” is an alternate reading.}]

1.7.40

ripur iva sakhi-saṃvāso'yaṃ śikhīva himānilo viṣam iva sudhā-raśmir yasmin dunoti mano-gate |
hṛdayam adaye tasmin naivaṃ punar valate balāt kuvalaya-dṛśāṃ vāmaḥ kāmo nikāma-niraṇkuśaḥ ||

"When he has entered my mind, this company of confidantes pains me like an enemy, the cold breeze like a fire, the nectar-rayed moon like poison; / yet toward that merciless one, my heart does not turn away by force; / perverse is desire toward blue-lotus-eyed women, entirely unrestrained!"

I will depart and give
All back to Fate and her: I will submit
To thy stern will, and bow myself to it,
Enduring still, though desolate, to live:

If it indeed be life,
Even so resigning, to sit patience-mad,
To feel the zephyrs burn, the sunlight sad,
The peace of holy heaven, a restless strife.

Haho! what words are these?
How can I live and lose him? how not go
Whither love draws me for a soul loved so?
How yet endure such sorrow?--or how cease?

1.7.41

bādhāṃ vidhehi malayānila pañca-bāṇa prāṇān gṛhāṇa na gṛhaṃ punar āśrayiṣye |
kiṃ te kṛtānta-bhagini kṣamayā taraṅgair aṅgāni siñca mama śāmyatu deha-dāhaḥ ||

"Inflict torment, breeze from the Malaya mountains! O five-arrowed god, take my life! I will not seek refuge in my home again! / Why this forbearance, O sister of death? Drench my limbs with your waves, let the burning of my body be quenched!"

Wind of the Indian wave!
If that thou canst, blow poison here, not nard;
God of the five shafts! shoot thy sharpest hard,
And kill me, Radha,--Radha who forgave!

Or, bitter River,
Yamûn! be Yama's sister! be Death's kin!
Swell thy wave up to me and gulf me in,
Cooling this cruel, burning pain for ever.

1.7.42

prātar nīla-nicolam acyutam uraḥ saṃvīta-pītāṃśukaṃ rādhāyāś cakitaṃ vilokya hasati svairaṃ sakhi-maṇḍale |
vrīḍā-cañcalam añcalaṃ nayanayor ādhāya rādhānane svādu-smera-mukho'yam astu jagad-ānandāya nandātmajaḥ ||

In the morning, seeing Acyuta wrapped in a blue cloak and Rādhā's chest covered in a yellow garment, / when the circle of confidantes laughs freely with astonishment, / casting the tremulous corner of his eyes upon Rādhā's face with shame, / may this son of Nanda, with his sweetly smiling face, be for the joy of the world!

Ah! if only visions stir
Grief so passionate in her,
What divine grief will not take,
Spirits in heaven for the sake
Of those who miss love? Oh, be wise!
Mark this story of the skies;
Meditate Govinda ever,
Sitting by the sacred river,
The mystic stream, which o'er his feet
Glides slow, with murmurs low and sweet,
Till none can tell whether those be
Blue lotus-blooms, seen veiledly
Under the wave, or mirrored gems
Reflected from the diadems
Bound on the brows of mighty Gods,
Who lean from out their pure abodes,
And leave their bright felicities
To guide great Krishna to his sides.

1.7.42.p1

iti śrī-gīta-govinda-mahākāvye vipralabdhā-varṇane
nāgara-nārāyaṇo nāma
saptamaḥ sargaḥ
||7||

Thus ends the seventh sarga, / entitled 'Nāgaranārāyaṇa' (The Sophisticated Nārāyaṇa), / in the great poem Gītagovinda, in the description of the disappointed heroine. / ||7

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

1.7.42.p2

(8)
aṣṭamaḥ sargaḥ
vilakṣa-lakṣmīpatiḥ

(8)
Eighth Sarga
Lakṣmī's Lord Abashed

SARGA THE EIGHTH.