Gita Govinda 2.9

Then, to her who was distressed by Manmatha, estranged from the flavor of love, overcome with sorrow,
pensively pondering Hari's deeds, separated [from him] by a quarrel, her confidante said:

Hari approaches as the spring breeze blows;
what other greater joy, O friend, could there be in the house?
Ah, proud woman, do not harbor wounded pride against Mādhava!

Why do you make fruitless the jar-like pair of breasts,
heavier even than a palmyra fruit and full of passion?
Ah, proud woman, do not harbor wounded pride against Mādhava!

How often was this not said at every step, without delay:
Do not turn away from Hari, who is exceedingly delightful!
Ah, proud woman, do not harbor wounded pride against Mādhava!

Why do you despair and weep, distraught?
The entire assembly of young women laughs at you.
Ah, proud woman, do not harbor wounded pride against Mādhava!

Upon the couch cooled with moist lotus leaves,
gaze upon Hari and make your eyes fruitful!
Ah, proud woman, do not harbor wounded pride against Mādhava!

Why do you produce such heavy grief in your heart?
Listen to my words, which are devoid of any discord.
Ah, proud woman, do not harbor wounded pride against Mādhava!

Let Hari come and speak sweet words in abundance;
why do you make your heart so utterly desolate?
Ah, proud woman, do not harbor wounded pride against Mādhava!

Composed by Śrī Jayadeva, exceedingly charming,
may this deed of Hari bring joy to discerning people!
Ah, proud woman, do not harbor wounded pride against Mādhava!

Since you are harsh to one who is affectionate, stiff when he bows, full of hate when he loves,
and avert your face when he looks toward you, toward that beloved;
it is fitting, O woman of contrariness, that for you sandalwood paste is poison,
the cool-rayed moon is the scorching sun, snow is fire, and the pleasures of play are torments.