Gita Govinda 4.p4

4.p4

Her soul comes here beside thee, and tenderly and true
It weaves a subtle mail of proof to ward off sin and pain;
A breastplate soft as lotus-leaf, with holy tears for dew,
To guard thee from the things that hurt; and then 'tis gone again
To strew a blissful place with the richest buds that grace
Kama's sweet world, a meeting-spot with rose and jasmine fair,
For the hour when, well-contented, with a love no longer troubled,
Thou shalt find the way to Radha, and finish sorrows there.