(To the Raga Malava and Tala Ektali)
When in the night
I reach the lonely forest,
he hides himself.
Seeing me looking around
anxiously wandering
he laughs heartily
in a mood of passion.
Sakhi, bring him here to sport with me,
the magnanimous destroyer of Keshi,
that my longing for enjoyment
may increase his desire.
When I hesitate in my first
tryst of love
he skilfully coaxes me
with flattering words
and shatters my coyness.
I smile at him tenderly
As he unfastens my garment.
When I lie on the bed
of tender sprouts,
he lies on my breast, for long.
When I embrace and kiss him,
he returns the embrace
and drinks the honey of my lips.
When in love-play
my eyes close languidly,
his cheeks glisten in rapture.
When I sweat and moisten
all over with love’s exertion,
he is restless in his brimming desire.
When in love-play,
I murmur like a cuckoo
he proclaims victor
in the true tradition of the art of love.
My hair gets tumbled
its flowers fluttering to the ground;
my breasts bear his nail-marks.
His sport of love
finds fulfilment
when my jewel anklets
vibrate, sounding sweet
and my loosened girdle tinkles.
And so he kisses me
drawing me close to himself.
When I am filled
with the taste of ecstasy,
his lotus eyes open a little
and watching my vine-like body collapse
Madhu’s foe delights in my love.
May this song
of the endless loves of Krishna,
told by anxious Radha,
and sung by Sri Jayadeva
bring bliss to the devotees.
When the gopis glance passionately
to arouse him,
he sees me and becomes pale.
His cheeks moisten with sweat
and his enchanting flute fallen
he blushes amorously.
I see him surrounded by the women of Vraja
and I feel the joy of desire.
Sakhi, even the sight of the clustering buds
of the ashoka tree distresses me.
Even the wind from the lakeside garden
brings anguish with it.
The opening buds of the mango tree
alive with the humming of hovering bees
even that brings no comfort to me.
May our glorious Krishna remove your sufferings.
He who was followed by the yearning smile
and wistful glances of the gopis
as they want to only raise their arms
pretending to tuck back a loose strand of hair
so as to reveal the lower curve of their breasts.
This Krishna was reminded of the magnanimity
of his beloved Radha and fell into sweet reverie
dwelling on her charms.
Canto III
Bewildered Krishna
Krishna, the enemy of Kamsa
placed Radha in his heart;
submitted willingly to be chained
by the longings of worldly attachment
and so abandoned
the beautiful moment of Vraja.
Pierced by the shafts
he searched for Radha
everywhere in vain, and so dejected,
sought out the woods
on the banks of Yamuna
and thus lamented:
Song 7
(To the Raga Gurjari and Tala Yati)
Radha saw me surrounded
by gopis and went away,
I, too, in fear of guilt,
embarrassed, did not stop her!
Alas, alas, she is gone in anger
feeling that she is neglected.
What will she do,
what will she say to me
for this long separation from me?
What need is there
of wealth, kin, home
and life itself, without her?
I brood on her face
wrathful, eyebrows crooked,
a crimson lotus clouded by the bees
hovering eagerly over it.
I am delighted always
by her ethereal union in my heart.
Then why this wandering in the forest
why mourn in vain and lament?
O my slender one,
envy and anger wastes your hearts.
But how can I conciliate you
when I don’t know where you are gone!
I feel you moving
about me, in front of me.
Then why not embrace me ardently
as you used to?
Forgive me now,
never again will I offend thee,
O beautiful Radha, come before me!
I burn with the passion of love.
This lamentation of Hari
sung so humbly by Jayadeva
who arose from the ocean,
a moon, from the village of
Kendubilva, his birthplace.
Lotus stalks garland my heart
not a necklace of serpents!
Blue lily-petals around my neck
Is not the streak of poison!
This sandal paste on my body
is not the crematory ash.
Mistake me not for Shiva
O love god, assail not me,
Pounce not on me in rage.
O love god,
Why make the mango sprout your bow?
There is no need to string it.
You vanquish the whole world in play.
What valour is there then
in wounding someone almost dead.
My heart waits to revive
from the pains of those other arrows of love,
the fluttering passionate glances of doe-eyed Radha.
Radha’s tendril, arched eyebrows are the bow;
her sidelong glances are the arrows;
her long eyes stretching upwards to her ear
the bowstring.
The god of love it seems,
after conquering the world,
returned his arsenal to Radha.
O my slender one,
it is but natural
that the glancing arrows
released from your eyebrow-bow
cause pain in me.
Your wavy black tresses
are ready to slash me.
Your luscious crimson lips
like ripe bimba fruit
may spread a strange delirium in me;
this is natural.
But why does your breast, so perfect and chaste
ravage my life in play?
May those bewitching glances
of Krishna ensure your prosperity;
the earrings dangling on his cheeks,
the sweet notes of his flute
that makes the gopis absent-minded,
as he stealthily looks
at the moon face of Radha.
iv. GITA GOVINDA: LOVE SONGS OF RADHA AND KRISHNA, BY JAYADEVA*
Canto 4, Song 9
Krishna, without you Radha,
Diminished to so frail a state,
Finds her necklace weight too great.
Krishna, without you Radha,
Feels poisoned by the sandal balm,
The soothing unguent meant to calm.
Krishna, without you Radha,
Is scorched by love, a flame that burns
As, with every sighing bre
ath, she yearns.
Krishna, without you Radha,
With lotus eyes, is looking all around for you,
Eyes like flowers plucked, streaming tears of dew.
Krishna, without you Radha,
Rests cheek in hand, cradled there tight,
A new moon steady in the dark of night.
Krishna, without you Radha,
Imagines her bed of leaves a pyre—
What should be cool is on fire.
Krishna, without you Radha,
Anxiously chants, ‘Oh my God, oh God above,’
As if eager to die for the sake of your love.
Krishna, without you Radha,
May Jaya-deva’s song make joy complete
For those bowed down at Krishna’s feet.
‘She bristles, moans, groans, laments, and gasps,
blinks, sinks, rises, falls, and finally faints.
Should you not, like a heavenly healer, cure this lovely girl
of passion’s flagrant fever with the potion of your love?
There is no other helping hand.’
‘You are most dear to the doctors divine,
And yet you do not heal Radha’s afflictions;
She, so sick with love, can only be cured by the balm of your touch.
You are more cruel than a thunderbolt, Indra’s brother!’
‘It’s surprising how long she’s suffered love’s ardent fevers,
her heart aching with reveries of sandal, the moon, and lotuses;
Although she’s weary, she imagines that you, so dear to her, your body cool,
are alone and waiting in hiding for her.
Only thus has she, though so weak, been able to survive
from moment to moment.
v. VIDYAPATI
Vidyapati Thakur (1352–1448), known for his erudite Sanskrit works, was also the first writer to use Maithili as a literary language. His poems on the love of Radha and Krishna show delicate sentiments and emotions, specially exploring the female imagination.
Signs of Youth*
Radha’s glances dart from side to side.
Her restless body and clothes are heavy with dust.
Her glistening smile shines again and again.
Shy, she raises her skirt to her lips.
Startled, she stirs and once again is calm,
As now she enters the ways of love.
Sometimes she gazes at her blossoming breasts
Hiding them quickly, then forgetting they are there.
Childhood and girlhood melt in one
And new and old are both forgotten.
Says Vidyapati: O Lord of life,
Do you not know the signs of youth?
First Joy
Away with childish thoughts.
Come to the bed.
Give up your shyness.
Lift your face.
Why waste time
Scratching lines on the earth.
O beautiful Radha,
Stay with your lover.
Brush aside your fear.
For the first time
Join with him in love.
Your first joy
May soon become
Love’s own great play
Of the lotus and the bee . . .
vi. NARSINH MEHTA
Narsinh Mehta (1414–81) is revered as the adikavi (First Poet) of Gujarat. An ardent devotee of Radha and Krishna, Shiva and other deities, he sought out traditional tales from saints and travellers and composed numerous bhajans. ‘Vaishnava Jana To Tene Re Kahiye’ was Mahatma Gandhi’s favourite bhajan.
Artless Milkmaid*
Goes the guileless milkmaid
to retail the Lord
the beloved of sixteen thousand maids
filled in a pot.
Sells the Ahir girl
the Saviour of the lost
shouts as she walks the lanes
‘Buy the Lord, O buy some Lord!’
Down she puts the pot
and inside a flute plays
the maid of Vraja swoons
when the face inside she sees.
Watch the wondrous sight
Brahma, Indra and other gods
behold in the milk pot
the Master of fourteen worlds.
Such was her fortune
for her manifested the Lord;
how the divine Liege of Narsinh
pampers His serving folk!
vii. CHANDIDAS
Chandidas (born 1408 AD) is the sobriquet of a prominent Bengali poet, or it possibly belongs to four poets bearing the same name in this period. Over a thousand poems, several on Radha and Krishna, allude to the parallels between human and divine love and endorse relationships that cross hierarchical boundaries. Chandidas’s poetry forms the core of the Vaishnava–Sahajiya movement.
O LOVE, what more shall I, shall Radha speak,
Since mortal words are weak?
In life, in death,
In being and in breath
No other lord but thee can Radha seek.
About thy feet the mighty net is wound
Wherein my soul they bound;
Myself resigned
To servitude my mind;
My heart than thine no sweeter slavery found.
I, Radha, thought; through the three worlds my gaze
I sent in wild amaze;
I was alone.
None called me ‘Radha!’, none;
I saw no hand to clasp, no friendly face.
I sought my father’s house; my father’s sight
Was empty of delight;
No tender friend
Her loving voice would lend;
My cry came back unanswered from the night.*
viii. SURDAS
Surdas (said to be born between 1478 and 1483, and died between 1561 and 1584) was famously a blind devotional poet and singer. Most of his work is in Braj Bhasha. Coming under the influence of Vallabha Acharya, Surdas became one of the renowned As.t.achāp kavis of the Vallabha sampradaya. The work Sursagar, a magnificent collection of poems, is attributed to him. Speaking of Radha and Krishna’s tender affections, Surdas excels in bringing attention to the minutiae of romantic experience.
Radha is lost to the onslaught of love.
She weeps from tree to tree and finally succumbs,
searching through the forests and groves.
Her braid—a peacock grasps it, thinking it a snake;
her lotus feet attract the bees;
The honey of her voice makes the crow in the kadamb tree
caw, caw to mimic its cuckoo;
Her hands—the tender leaves of blossom-bringing Spring:
the parrot, when he sees, comes near to taste;
And the full moon in her face inspires the cakor bird
to drink the water washing from her eyes.
Her despair, her desperation—the Joy of the Yadus sees it
and appears at her side just in time;
Surdas’s Lord takes that seedbud of new birth
and cradles it, a newborn in his arms.*
ix. RUPA GOSWAMI
Rupa Goswami (1489–1564) was a devotional teacher of the Gaudiya Vaishnava tradition, closely associated with spreading the message of Shri Chaitanya Mahaprabhu. His repertoire of poetic writing sees Radha as the path to understanding the grace and divinity of Krishna.
Pleased with any person who, abandoning all hope of material happiness and overwhelmed with love, reads this sweet Shri Radhastaka with a pure heart, the prince of Vraja of His own accord places him among Shri Radha’s personal associates.†
x. BIHARI
Bihari (1595–1663) is best known for writing the Satsai (Seven Hundred Verses). The poems on Radha and Krishna are mostly about amorous and playful acts of joy. The poetic virtuosity of the intricate and visual language has caused the text to be rendered in several art forms.
Hungry for Krishna’s love, she hides his flute,
Haven’t got it, sa
ys she, her brows arching to her smile,
She offers to return it, then gestures ‘no’,
Wanting Him in eternal Play.‡
xi. SUBRAHMANYA BHARATHIYAR
Bharathiyar (1882–1921) was a popular writer, poet and journalist who is considered a pioneer of modern Tamil poetry. A social reformer and a fiery speaker, Bharathiyar believed in principles of equity and justice that looked beyond class and caste divisions. His works include songs that kindled patriotism during the national movement in India. His literary interests ranged widely and covered political, social and spiritual themes.
On the island of love O! Radhe Radhe
O! pearl of women I happened to see O! Radhe Radhe
In the garden of love O! Radhe Radhe
Are you a diamond or flowering tree O! Radhe Radhe
O! great queen! O! golden woman O! Radhe Radhe
O! life-breath of heavenly love O! Radhe, Radhe*
xii. RABINDRANATH TAGORE, BHANUSINGHER PADAVALI
Rabindranath Tagore (1861–1941) started publishing the Padavali poems under the pseudonym Bhanusingh at the age of sixteen. Written in imitation of Vaishnava lyrics, he built up a literary hoax about a lost manuscript in the obscure language Brajabuli. The poems gathered praise and, at some point, the subterfuge was discovered, to everyone’s amusement. The songs, however, remained popular for the Radha–Krishna lore and the musicality of the verses.
Vasant Aaval Re (Spring is Here)†
Spring is here!
Humming black bees
woods covered with
flower-laden mango trees.
Listen to me, friend,
my joyous heart goes restless . . .
Decked with the beauty of spring
mocks the universe
‘O lovelorn Radha, where is your beloved, Madhav?’
xiii. KAZI NAZRUL ISLAM
Kazi Nazrul Islam (1899–1976), who became the national poet of Bangladesh, was a writer, musician and revolutionary. Prolific in his creative output, Nazrul wrote fiction and essays but is best remembered for his poetry and songs. Brought up in a composite culture, he created the first Bengali-language ghazals and inscribed several songs to Radha.
Shyam! If only you were Radha
Like me, you would have chanted, day and night, the name of Shyam
The burning anguish left by Krishna’s scandals
Would then appear as malati garlands