LOOKING AS LOVELY as Love himself,
he’s gone to the haven of erotic delight;
Dear damsel, follow him, the lord of your heart.
Don’t hesitate! Go tonight!
By the Yamuna, where the wind wafts winsome,
there in the woods, Krishna rests,
There where once his restless hands
caressed cowherdesses’ curvaceous breasts. Refrain
The notes he plays on his dulcet flute
are coded signals for your name;
He relishes breeze-borne powdery pollens
that have grazed your fragile frame.
By the Yamuna, where the wind wafts winsome,
there in the woods, Krishna rests,
There where once his restless hands
caressed cowherdesses’ curvaceous breasts.
5.10
The rustle of a leaf or flap of a wing
makes him eagerly turn his head
To look at the path, to see if you’ve come,
as he prepares your bed.
By the Yamuna, where the wind wafts winsome,
there in the woods, Krishna rests,
There where once his restless hands
caressed cowherdesses’ curvaceous breasts.