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 come onto the path of my eyes - Sri Krishna, the ocean of mercy, Krishna, the beloved of Gokula?"

Govinda, supreme bliss, the auspiciousness of Nanda's household; the ruby from the mine that is Yasoda; 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 that casts down the pride of 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 charming tinkling anklets are like khanjana birds in the cage of his feet; 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 slab of an emerald mountain.

His conch-like throat is adorned with a hanging ornament, the very emperor of jewels; the might of his rod-like arms rivals pillars of sapphire (indranila).

The circle of his face has shattered the beauty of ten million full moons; he is an ocean of waves of loveliness, his lower lip like vermilion.

His eyes are swelling with an abundance of the beauty of fully blossomed lotuses; 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 scent-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 boundless.

Dear to the love of Subala, dwelling within the hearts of his friends; who has taken the great vow of kindling the joy of Nanda and 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 the young women; he kindles the fire of Cupid's passion among the lotus-eyed maidens of Vrndavana.

He is smeared with kunkuma from the breasts of the cowherd girls, filled with Cupid's passion; 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, charming with the bliss of Cupid.

He is the king of cakora birds for Candravali; the honey of the madhavi-creeper that is Radhika; charming in His playful pastimes with Lalita; 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.

He plunders the bodices covering the breasts of the fair-limbed gopis who stole His flute; he for whom Radha's secret tryst is everything; the great master of expansive amorous skill.

Eager to hear Radha's playful, joking words, he hides his form behind creepers; he is intent on stopping Radhika, who carries off the kadamba blossoms.

Delighting in union with Radha, hidden deep within the embrace of the bower; struck with a lotus by Radha, her mind wild with play.

His armor, 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 sidelong glances cause agitation like that of ten million sets of Cupid's five arrows; he performs his vigorous dance on the bank of the Yamuna, daughter of the sun.

He is a wish-fulfilling lotus lake for the bee that is the daughter of Vrsabhanu; 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, whom he stopped on the riverbank at his pretended toll-station.

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 tinkling of the bells of Bhadra as she joyfully sets out to meet him; 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.

The edge of his garment is seized by Radha, radiant in her victory in the wager of a kiss and 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 lovingly plunge the Mandara mountain of their tongues into it.