Krishna, without you Radha,
May Jaya·deva’s song make joy complete
For those bowed down at Krishna’s feet.

“She bristles, moans, groans, laments, and gasps,
blinks, sinks, rises, falls, and finally faints.
Should you not, like a heavenly healer, cure this lovely girl
of passion’s flagrant fever with the potion of your love?
There is no other helping hand.”*

4.20

“You are most dear to the doctors divine,
And yet you do not heal Radha’s afflictions;
She, so sick with love, can only be cured by the balm
of your touch.
You are more cruel than a thunderbolt, Indra’s brother!”*

“It’s surprising how long she’s suffered love’s ardent fevers,
her heart aching with reveries of sandal, the moon,
and lotuses;
Although she’s weary, she imagines that you, so dear to her,
your body cool,
are alone and waiting in hiding for her.
Only thus has she, though so weak, been able to survive
from moment to moment.”