Prarthana Paddhatih

Whose limbs are purely fair like refined gold, whose eyes have the grace of a young doe, whose face's beauty has conquered ten million moons, and who is wrapped in a garment dark as a raincloud.

She is the blooming jasmine adorning the braided hair of the host of young cowherd women; her bodily beauty is enhanced by divine ornaments of jewels and the like.

The guide of the circle skilled in the arts of rasa, honored with the respect due a leader, surrounded by her eight most beloved companions of the same age.

Who, by the movement of her restless sidelong glances, throws Kesava into agitation; whose lovely bimba-red lips are the very life-nectar of the son of Vraja's king.

O queen of Vrindavana, this person, bowing down, rolling about on the bank of the Yamuna, his heart in turmoil, cries out to you with these pitiful words:

"Though I am an offender, though unqualified, though this person is of poor intelligence — kindly grant me even the smallest fraction of the gift of your service."

It is not fitting for you to disregard this person in his distress, for your heart is always like butter, ever melting at the radiant warmth of mercy.