11.25

She gazed at Krishna:
Long had he longed to make love to her,
his one true love, his only miss;
Love had made himself at home in him,
and his face beamed bounteous bliss.
Just as, flecked with fulgent foam, the dark Yamuna flows,
So on his chest a long string of pearls in profusion glows.

She gazed at Krishna:
Long had he longed to make love to her,
his one true love, his only miss;
Love had made himself at home in him,
and his face beamed bounteous bliss.
Just as dark lotus roots are by golden pollen
bright encased,
So a yellow robe was draped around his swarthy
supple waist.

She gazed at Krishna:
Long had he longed to make love to her,
his one true love, his only miss;
Love had made himself at home in him,
and his face beamed bounteous bliss.
Just as a pool in fall ripples when open lotuses are
shaken by wagtail birds’ mating dances,
So his handsome face shimmered with passion’s pleasure
as his eyes cast their fluttering glances.