The Music of Hindostan c7.178

c7.178

Is this sweet babe The bright crescent moon, or the charming flower of the lotus, The honey in a flower, or the lustre of the full moon, A pure coral gem, or the pleasant chatter of parrots, A dancing peacock, or a sweet singing bird, A bounding young deer, or a bright shining swan, A treasure from God, or the pet parrot in the hands of Īśvarī, The tender leaf of the *kalpa* tree, or the fruit of my tree of fortune, A golden casket to enclose the jewel of my love, Nectar in my sight, or a light to dispel darkness, The seed of my climbing fame, or a never-fading bright pearl, The brilliance of the sun to dispel all the gloom of misery, The Vedas in a casket, or the melodious *vīṇā*, The lovely blossom put forth by the stout branch of my tree of enjoyment, A cluster of *pichāka* buds, or sugar-candy sweet on the tongue, The fragrance of musk, the best of all good, A breeze laden with the scent of flowers, or the essence of purest gold, A bowl of fresh milk, or of sweet smelling rose-water, The field of all virtue, or an abode of all duty, A cup of thirst-quenching cold water, or a sheltering shade, A never-failing *mallika* flower, or my own stored up wealth, The auspicious object of my gaze, or my most precious jewel, A stream of virtuous beauty, or an image of the youthful Krishna, The bright forehead mark of the goddess Lakshmī, Or, by the mercy of Padmanābha, is it the source of my future happiness, Is it, in this beautiful form, an Avatār of Krishna Himself?