Prarthanamrta Stotra

By taking innumerable births, if need be, eager only for service at the feet of Sri Rupa Manjari and Rati Manjari, may I dwell eternally in Vraja.

Oh, when will this soul, its body bathed in the streams of tears that flow from both eyes in its joy, its thrilled hairs dancing skilfully, be victorious in winning over Radha and Krishna, the two expert dancers of love, whose thrilled bodies glisten, drenched with the water of love from Their dancing in the rasa?

When shall I, water streaming to the ground from my eyes in an outburst of love, my body pale and deeply trembling, the roots of my standing hairs bathed in perspiration, remember Radha and Krishna, who speak to each other with smiles and are greatly skilled in love's own battle-sport?

O sakhi, when shall I with my own eyes worship Krishna — his body radiant with a wealth of splendor that crushes the pride of a fresh tamala tree sprung from emerald ground, glowing with the rising mellow of pure love, his face praised by the full moon, his eyes languid with sleep, and Radha absorbed in sleep upon his chest?

O sakhi, when, by the mercy of her feet, shall I carefully select many-colored jewels of flashing brilliance and hand them one by one, from close by, into the hand of Sri Radha, which visibly thrills with excitement as she lovingly fashions a necklace for Hari?

Syama, her mind swallowed by jealous pride, quickly sent for tender-hearted Radhika to tell her of her distress. Learning this from a parrot, Krishna, the slayer of Agha, went to Radha dressed in Syama's clothes, complaining of his own faults. Delighted, Radha at once embraced him; then, realising the truth, she stood stunned.

"O sakhi, who is this — his radiance like a rain-laden cloud, his garment shaming refined gold, his crest set with a peacock feather, happily dressed in forest attire, playing a flute held to a face whose beauty surpasses even the full moon — who is this, stealing my mind away today with his flute?"

"O Lalita, listen to this one wonderful dream — ha, sakhi, let me tell it! In the dream, when you and I had gone into the forest together to gather flowers, someone smiling, his body handsome as a raincloud, forcefully and rapturously embraced you before me, your limbs restless with a startled, sidelong glance."

Seeing the torment of the cowherd king's son, the flute itself has fallen silent; every being, moving and still, born in the land of Vraja has grown faint. He too lies rolling on the ground, without ornament, wasted, surrounded by anxious friends. But you, O Radha, happily go on feeding the serpent of your jealous pride with milk.

"O Radha, where are you? Come here directly! Ah, come and bathe this person, who is yours to command, with the mellow of your joyful compassion!" — thus, as Krishna anxiously made a choked, pleading sound through the hollow of his flute, she appeared, smiling, having turned coyly aside.

"Taking today in his left hand a bow of flowers, and with the two curved fingers of his other hand fitting a straight arrow to it in front — who is this dark one, dressed as a dancer, making sport together with his friends, smiling, O beautiful one, wandering about, his playful glances maddening even Cupid?"

O sakhi, when, having come and joyfully seen the bower strewn with the many ornaments, fragrant garlands, kunkuma and camphor that fell in Syama and Syama's intense love-battle, will that pair, enjoying the breeze some distance off, weary from their exertion, their eyes set on looking, ever turn their smiling glance upon me?

I bow to a certain wondrous cuckoo, whose luster surpasses the wonder of gold, greedy for the honeyed sweetness rising from the sprout-like lips of Subala's friend.

I glorify, for a long time, that wondrous bee, crowned with a peacock feather, dressed in yellow silk, eager to drink the nectar of the bimba-red lips of the daughter of Vrsabhanu.

"The moon has been conquered in fame by me" — do not, O hero of the cowherds, hold such foolish pride, for the flood of tears from the eyes of your enemies' wives has already forcibly conquered even the moon's own father, the ocean.

"O sakhi, who is this bride of Vraja, never seen before yet shining as if seen? From where has this incomparable one come here to serve you — from Mathura? Then delight this unprecedented girl with an unprecedented Hari!" — hearing these clever, teasing words spoken along with Radhika, he whose disguise as a young woman had been discovered only smiled.

By your good fortune, the moonlight, adorning this forest-jewel dwelling all around, shines here where darkness has been vanquished and midnight has passed; so hurry, O thirsting cakora bird, from your own sky to drink of it, before the jealous sun rises here and drives you far away.

When will these eyes of mine serve Hari here, embraced by Radha — just as a female cakora longs for the moon joined with moonlight, as a loving female cataka for a fresh divine raincloud girded with steady lightning, or as a female bee, with rising eagerness, for a tamala tree entwined by a golden creeper?

O sakhi, I bow to that accomplished flute, which, through its whispered, pleading sound, extinguishes here the fire of Radha's jealous anger — a fire that could not be quenched even by the enemy of Putana himself, though he sent flattering messengers, though sakhis pleaded for him in heart-rending tones, or though he bowed his head, dust from rolling at her feet still clinging to it.

"Vraja, the land where my life sports, its people, my father, my mother, the cows, my friends, the gopis and that certain one — without them Dvaraka has become poison to me, my friend" — hearing these words that Madhava spoke brokenly in his dream, even that Bhama felt it right that all of this be seen, and pleads with him for it with flattering words.

O sakhi, behold for a long time this venerable, radiant golden jasmine vine with its swarm of restless bees, resting in the lap of a tamala tree — for it recalls Radha, more brilliant than lightning, smiling, her eyes restless, seated in the lap of Krishna, the slayer of Agha, whose splendor outshines the cloud.