10.1
K
RISHNA TIMIDLY approached Radha,
whose anger had meanwhile diminished;
So pretty was her face that evening,
her mouth wan from incessant sighing;
She looked to her friend as,
stammering with anticipation,
Krishna said this to her:
GAZING AT YOUR face, ravenous for your parted lips,
my eyes are nightingales thirsting for the nectar
of the moon;
The moonlight glimmering on your teeth would dispel
the dreadful gloom, my apprehension,
if only you would speak a little bit and soon,
O my beloved, my sweetheart, please,
Don’t be angry, please be fair.
Love’s flames consume my heart.
A lotus is your mouth—
let me drink the mead from there. Refrain
If you’re really angry with me, then go ahead:
wound me with arrows—your sharp nails;
bind me in chains—your arms, yes, let me be squeezed;
Or bite me, fierce girl—
In these ways might both of us be pleased.
O my beloved, my sweetheart, please,
Don’t be angry, please be fair.
Love’s flames consume my heart.
A lotus is your mouth—
let me drink the mead from there.