Premendu Sagarakhya Sri Krsna Namastottara Sata

A certain beautiful cowherd girl, in the state of being separated from her beloved through her own jealous quarrel, her limbs wasted by the burning heat of separation, spoke longingly to her friend:

"Ah, fair one! Will he ever again become the pathway for my eyes - Sri Krishna, the ocean of mercy, Krishna, the beloved of Gokula?"

Govinda, supreme bliss, the auspiciousness of Nanda's household; the ruby mined from Yasoda's love; the moon risen from the ocean who is the king of the cowherds.

His splendor mocks the vehemence of a fresh raincloud; he is clothed in a silken yellow garment whose fineness surpasses even refined gold.

The luster of his toenails destroys the pride of Cupid's own beauty; his feet bear the shining marks of banner, lotus, thunderbolt, barleycorn, and elephant-goad.

His feet are adorned with charming, tinkling anklets that ring out sweetly; his pair of knees shine, shaped like caskets of sapphire.

His graceful thighs rival the splendid trunk of a mighty elephant in beauty; his broad waist is encircled with jeweled, tinkling bells.

The sweetness of his waist shatters the arrogant pride of the celestial lion; the broad expanse of his chest is as weighty and grand as a jeweled mountain peak.

His conch-like throat is adorned with a hanging ornament, the very emperor of jewels; the beauty of his rod-like arms rivals the jeweled pillars of Indra's palace.

The beauty of his full moon-like face surpasses countless waxing and waning moons together; he is an ocean of waves of loveliness, his lower lip like vermilion.

His eyes shame the beauty of a fully blossomed lotus with their large, tremulous glances; his shark-shaped earrings swing and dance against his cheeks.

His radiant form expands with the very onset of fresh youth; the corners of his eyes carry the prowess of ten million raised bows of Cupid.

His speech carries the full sweetness of the essence of nectar; he is the fragrant musk-elephant roaming the dense groves and caves of the Vrndavana forest.

He is the fresh raincloud resting upon the high, blessed peaks of Govardhana; the auspicious swan sporting in the daughter of Kalinda.

He is the bliss cherished at Nandisvara, the dancer on the banks of Bhandiravana; the slayer of Sankhacuda; he who made a plaything of the king of mountains.

Deep as ten million oceans, mighty as ten million lions; the source of joy for Rohini's son; whose friendship with Sridama is held in the highest regard.

Dear to the love of Subala, dwelling within the hearts of his friends; the great and devoted student of Sandipani Muni, who is the joy of Nanda and all the people of Vraja.

He gathers the herds of horned cattle with the circling melody of his flute; delighted by mock battles undertaken with the finest of bulls.

His forest ornamentation shines brilliantly; he is the very deity desired by romantic love itself; his radiant form is marked by the graceful sweep of a rising peacock feather.

He is adorned with a garland of five-colored flowers, thronged by roving bees; his girdle is woven of beautifully colored golden jasmine.

His limbs, painted variously with colored minerals, carry the full weight of waves of loveliness; he is adorned with clusters of gunja-berries, his playful bed made of tender leaves and sprouts.

The honeyed fragrance of his body increases the intoxication of joy; he kindles the fire of Cupid's passion among the lotus-eyed maidens of Vrndavana.

He is smeared with kunkuma from the crowding cowherd women's ornamented breasts; the stream of sweetness flowing from his moon-face captivates the eyes of chaste women.

The plunderer of young maidens' garments; expert in bold, playful, joking words; he is an ocean of nectar for Radha, anointed with abundant, charming cleverness.

He is the arrival of autumn moonlight for the intelligence of lovely Candravali; possessed of the wealth of composed gracefulness, a friend to the bliss of Cupid.

He is the king of cakora birds for Candravali; the honey of the madhavi-creeper that is Radhika; charmingly playful in delightful pastimes; the moon among the stars for Vishakha.

He is the bee at the lotus face of Padma; his lotus feet are served by Saivya; he rests within the heart of Bhadra; he longs eagerly for dark Syamala.

He is the garden bower of blossoming pastimes whose wonder transcends the world; the magnet for the wealth of love, drawing hearts to himself as iron is drawn, unfailingly.

Flute in hand, he plunders the bodice covering the golden-limbed one's breasts; he for whom Radha's secret tryst is everything; the great master of expansive amorous skill.

His form holds itself back, eager to hear Radha's playful, joking words; he is greatly stirred, blocking Radhika's path with clusters of kadamba blossoms.

Delighting in union with Radha, hidden deep within the embrace of the bower; struck like lightning by the blue-lotus glance of the bold heroine engaged in unrestrained play.

His comb, smeared with crushed kunkuma, betrays the battle of Cupid's union; he takes on the graceful three-bending form, his lips joined to the flute.

His flute expansively displays an excellent composition of celestial music; he is lord of a thousand multitudes of gopis, maddened with the intense mellow of rasa.

His restless glances stir even ten million wives of Cupid; he performs his vigorous dance on the bank of the Yamuna, daughter of the sun.

He is the bee to the daughter of Vrsabhanu, the wish-fulfilling cow granting every desire, the maker of lotus ponds; he draws forth Radhika's smile through hidden, playful jests.

His true self lies hidden beneath a woman's disguise; his mind is filled with wonder; his lotus face is mixed with betel-nut hanging with camphor.

He is skilled in the arrangements carried out through the jeweled messenger of Candravali; struck by the frowning eyebrows of Radha, who is thwarted by his own deceptive stratagems.

He is made bashful by the laughter and pretended reproach of Radha's clever sakhi; he is love for the cowherd women personified, the very embodiment of the mellow of auspicious bliss.

Eager for the sound of the auspicious tinkling bells during the tryst; his path ahead watched for by Padma, who readies herself in fine attire.

He becomes the subject of anguished speculation for the distressed, longing Lalita; he increases the weight of lamentation of the deceived Vishakha.

His face and glance are sought after by Syama, separated from him through her own jealous quarrel; he relishes within himself the angry words of the fiercely indignant, wronged Saivya.

He is delighted by the message of Candravali, distressed by separation; he is expert in adorning Radha as she blossoms with joy, her lover entirely under her control.

His restlessness is conquered by Radha's radiant victory in the wager over a kiss for the flute; his inner being is bewildered by the whirlpool of the mellow of Radha's love.

Thus, her mind maddened with love, she praised the crusher of Kamsa; and seeing him appear before her, she went forth into a festival of full-blown bliss.

In this hymn of one hundred and eight names called "Premendu-sagara," the Ocean of the Moon of Love, may the wise plunge with love and churn its nectar with their tongues.