My heart values his vulgar ways (from The Gitagovinda)
by JayadevaEnglish version by Barbara Stoler Miller
Original Language Sanskrit
My heart values his vulgar ways,
Refuses to admit my rage,
Feels strangely elated,
and keeps denying his guilt.
When he steals away without me
To indulge his craving
For more young women,
My perverse heart
Only wants Krishna back.
What can I do?
I reach the lonely forest hut where he secretly lies at night.
My trembling eyes search for him as he laughs in a mood of passion.
Friend, bring Kesi's sublime tormentor to revel with me!
I've gone mad with waiting for his fickle love to change.
I shy from him when we meet; he coaxes me with flattering words.
I smile at him tenderly as he loosens the silken cloth on my hips.
Friend, bring Kesi's sublime tormentor to revel with me!
I've gone mad with waiting for his fickle love to change.
I fall on the bed of tender ferns; he lies on my breasts forever.
I embrace him, kiss him; he clings to me drinking my lips.
Friend, bring Kesi's sublime tormentor to revel with me!
I've gone mad with waiting for his fickle love to change.
My eyes close languidly as I feel the flesh quiver on his cheek.
My body is moist with sweat; he is shaking from the wine of lust.
Friend, bring Kesi's sublime tormentor to revel with me!
I've gone mad with waiting for his fickle love to change.
I murmur like a cuckoo; he masters love's secret rite.
My hari is a tangle of wilted flowers; my breasts bear his nailmarks.
Friend, bring Kesi's sublime tormentor to revel with me!
I've gone mad with waiting for his fickle love to change.
Jewel anklets ring at my feet as he reaches the height of passion.
My belt falls noisily; he draws back my hair to kiss me.
Friend, bring Kesi's sublime tormentor to revel with me!
I've gone mad with waiting for his fickle love to change.
I savor passion's joyful time; his lotus eyes are barely open.
My body falls like a limp vine; Madhu's foe delights in my love.
Friend, bring Kesi's sublime tormentor to revel with me!
I've gone mad with waiting for his fickle love to change.
Jayadeva sings about Radha's fantasy of making love with Madhu's killer.
Let the story of a lonely cowherdess spread joy in his graceful play.
Friend, bring Kesi's sublime tormentor to revel with me!
I've gone mad with waiting for his fickle love to change.
The enchanting flute in his hand
Lies fallen under coy glances;
Sweat of love wets his cheeks;
His bewildered face is smiling --
When Krishna sees me watching him
Playing in the forest
In a crowd of village beauties,
I feel the joy of desire.
Wind from a lakeside garden
Coaxing buds on new asoka branches
Into clusters of scarlet flowers
Is only fanning the flames to burn me.
This mountain
Of new mango blossoms
Humming with roving bumblebees
Is no comfort to me now, freind.
 | -- from Love Song of the Dark Lord: Jayadeva's Gitagovinda, Translated by Barbara Stoler Miller |
<<Previous Poem | More Poems by Jayadeva | Next Poem >>
 |
|
|||
| Songs of the Saints from the Adi Granth | Love Song of the Dark Lord: Jayadeva's Gitagovinda | |||
