Rase Harim Iha Vihita

My mind recalls Hari here in the rasa dance, engaged in playful sport, his teasing jests.

Recalling his enchanting flute, made vocal with the sweet sound of the nectar flowing from his moving lips; his earring swaying restlessly at his cheek, as his crown and glancing eye-corners move together.

Recalling his hair encircled by a lovely crest of peacock feathers with their moon-like eyes; his splendid attire the color of a dense monsoon cloud, tinged like the great bow of Indra.

Recalling his eagerness, aroused by kissing the faces of the wide-hipped gopis gathered like a kadamba cluster; his tender lip, sweet as the bandhujiva flower, its beauty enhanced by his radiant smile.

Recalling his tender-shoot arms, thrilled with hairs standing on end, encircling a thousand young cowherd women; the darkness dispelled by the rays of the jeweled ornaments upon his hands, feet, and chest.

Recalling his forehead marked with a sandal tilaka that outshines the moon moving amid a bank of clouds; his heart, seemingly cruel yet secretly tender, in the crushing embrace of the gopis' full breasts.

Recalling his broad cheek adorned with charming crocodile-shaped jeweled earrings; his yellow garment, and his retinue of the finest sages, humans, gods and demons who follow him.

Recalling him met beneath the pale-flowering kadamba tree, dispelling all the fear born of the sins of this age of Kali; he who delights even my own heart, casting toward me too, in some way, a wave of his restless, Cupid-laden glance.

This song, composed by Sri Jayadeva, describes the exceedingly beautiful, enchanting form of the enemy of the demon Madhu -- fitting, at this very moment, for the pious to remember Hari's feet.