Many were the images of Krishna reflected
in the myriad jewels arrayed in the hood of the
Serpent King
upon whom Krishna reclines;
It was as if, wishing to gaze at his beloved Lakshmi,
daughter of the ocean, her feet like lotuses,
with hundreds of eyes,
He had multiplied himself in her honor.
May Krishna bless you!

“It seems to me, my lovely one, that an infatuated Shiva
drank poison from the cosmic ocean of milk
Because you, being in love with me, didn’t pick him
at the ceremony for choosing a husband.”
Distracting her with such stories of the past,
Krishna threw aside Radha’s upper garment,
And looked up at the buds of her breasts.
May Krishna bless you!

Considering the effort that I’ve put into my literary
composition,
and taking note of any flaws in it,
may holy men, if they are so inclined,
give their approval to devoted aspirants like me.
I ask those of you who have listened to the works of others
to carefully examine mine,
and to declare any of its imperfections.
Such judgment will endure.*