|| Śrī Kṛṣṇa-karṇāmṛtam
|| (Nectar to the ears of Lord Kṛṣṇa)
by Śrīla Bilvamaṅgala Ṭhākura
This work was created by Sage Śrī-Līlā-Śuka, also known as Bilvamaṅgala-Ṭhākura
cintāmaṇir jayati somagirir gurur me
śikṣā-guruś ca bhagavān śikhi-pi˝cha-mauliḥ
līlā-svayaṁvara-rasaṁ labhate jaya-śrīḥ
All glories to Cintāmaṇi and my initiating spiritual master, Somagiri.
All glories to my instructing spiritual master, the Supreme Personality of Godhead,
who wears peacock feathers in His crown. Under the shade of His lotus feet,
which are like desire trees, Jayaśrī (Rādhārāṇī)
enjoys the transcendental mellow of an eternal consort.
hasta-nyasta-natāpavargam akhilodāraṁ kiśorākṛti
There is an entity who has the appearance of an adolescent boy, and who is
being inundated with desire-tree flowers falling from the fingertips of the
damsels of heaven. That boy is completely carefree, situated in transcendental
beatitude, as He sends forth waves of sound from His famed flute. He is encircled
by thousands of effulgent milkmaids, whose garments are becoming loose again
and again (from their extreme pleasure at hearing the flute) and who are trying
to hold them up. That adolescent boy, the pinnacle of munificence, places liberation
from birth and death into the hands of His surrendered devotees.
We worship that dark bluish young boy, in whom culminate the principal stimuli
for amorous love, who causes Rādhā to become languid with the beauty
of His dancing sidelong glances, and who in turn becomes languid with love when
Śrī Rādhā and Her friends cast their sidelong glances at
Him. That boy's beauty, like waves of nectar, engenders an extreme thirst in
the eyes of Rādhā and Her companions, and, conversely, their nectarous
beauty makes Him thirsty to see them. He is affectionately worshiped by Rādhā's
wistful glances, and He enjoys loving pastimes with Rādhā and Her
friends on the bank of the Yamunā. We worship that young bluish boy, the
source of the god of love, who has attained unchallenged dominion over love's
Let the effulgence personified (i.e., Kṛṣṇa) shine within
our hearts. He is wearing a bright peacock plume on His head, His face is steeped
in sweet beauty, His fresh youthfulness is bursting forth, and His flute is
pouring out murmuring, nectarous sounds of rapture. On all sides the milkmaids
of Vraja, who have blooming, budlike breasts, worship Him in adoration. Indeed,
He is, amazingly, the only enjoyer and the only source of enjoyment in the entire
viṣaya-viṣāmiṣa-grasana-gṛdhnuni cetasi me
vipula-vilocanaṁ kim api dhāma cakāstu ciram ||5||
Śrī Kṛṣṇa's eyes are long like petals of a blooming
lotus, and His very charming lotus-like face is made all the more charming by
His extremely beautiful and sweet, nectarous smiles. His profuse curling locks
look delightful with their decoration of a proud peacock's tail-feather. Let
Him, the embodiment of all effulgence, forever shine within my heart, which
is (outwardly) greedy for the poisonous meat of sense objects, [or (inwardly)
greedy for the beauty of Śrī Kṛṣṇa, a beauty that
binds the devotee's mind and causes burning pain at the time of separation from
May the lotus of my Lord's face blossom within [the lake of] my mind. The
eyes of that face resemble lotus buds, being half-closed, and the delicate mirror-like
orbs of its cheeks are puffed with the nectarous honey of the flute-sound.
Let my words express even a tiny particle of a particle of a particle of the
luscious beauty of Murāri, whose artless adolescent figure enraptures me,
and whose moon-face is worshiped by the soft melodies of His flute.
vijayatāṁ mama vāṅ-maya-jīvitam ||8||
All glories to [Kṛṣṇa] the life of my words! The collyrium
from the eyes of the young girls of Vraja decorates His charming lotus face,
which is languid with love, and an impassioned peacock's feather adorns His
I take shelter of the Lord [Krṣṇa], who becomes agitated with
passion when He hears the sound of His own flute, held in His lotus hands, which
resemble newly sprouted reddish twigs. His lotus feet reproach fully blossomed
pāṭalī flowers with their beauty, and His amiable face sends
forth blossoms of brilliance from His delightfully sweet lips. He is smeared
with the kuṅkuma powder from the milkmaids' pitcher-like breasts.
Let that effulgent youth [Kṛṣṇa] come near to my heart.
His wantonly restless, wide-open eyes are full of joy, and, being fully aware
of the hearts of the beautiful young girls of Vraja, He fills them with the
fluttering confusions of love. ??He is fickle, yet He is like the central jewel
in the necklace of the milkmaids.
kim api vahatu cetaḥ kṛṣṇa-pādāmbujābhyām
Let my mind attain some inexpressible beatific bliss from [thinking of] Kṛṣṇa's
lotus feet, which are the home of the eternal pastimes of the most beautiful
maidens in all the worlds, which destroy the pride of whole clusters of lotuses,
and which are highly esteemed for their great eagerness in providing safety
for the Lord's humble devotees.
May the Lord of our life, that young boy [Kṛṣṇa], shine
incessantly within our hearts. His eyes, full of love for Rādhā, are
the abode of infinite beauty. Every day they appear newer and newer, at every
step they increase their charm and elegance, and at every moment they sparkle
more and more brilliantly.
ānanda-samplavam anu plavatāṁ mano me ||14||
May my mind float along in the flood of bliss emanating from Kṛṣṇa's
moonlike face, made charming by a very mild smile. Kṛṣṇa has
the appearance of a young boy, and, beautified by the waves of His passionate
ecstasy breaking in the ocean of sweetness, He soothes all distress.
Let the force [of the flood of bliss emanating from Kṛṣṇa's
face], which saturates the whole universe, play within my heart, which is moistened
by contact with Kṛṣṇa's lotus feet, by the display of charming,
artless emotions on His open, lovely lotus face, and by the melody of His flute,
which is relished by Rādhā.
May the sweet jingling of the jewelled anklets of Kṛṣṇa,
the master of the milkmaids, be manifest in my mind. Kamalā's [Rādhā's]
white swans swimming in the lotus-filled ponds of the Yamunā accord that
sweet jingling a warm welcome with the melodious warbling from their throats.
mama khelatu mada-cetasi-madhurādharam amṛtam ||18||
May Kṛṣṇa's nectar-filled sweet lips play in my mind, intoxicated
with delight. His broad eyes, reddish like the rising sun, are full of compassion,
His hair is standing on end because of touching Kamalā's [Rādhā's]
heavy, pitcher-like breasts, and He has melted the lotus-like hearts of the
sages with the sound of His flute.
May there appear in my mind some of the ecstatic states of very charming Śrī
Kṛṣṇa. As He glances at the milkmaids' sweet moonlike faces,
agitating them with joy, He seems to be kissing them with His half-closed eyes.
As He begins sounding His flute, He assumes the attitude of an adolescent youth.
May there awaken in my mind a vision of the Lord arising from the bed of amorous
play. The bracelets of Rādhā and Kṛṣṇa tinkle softly,
and Kṛṣṇa's yellow cloth is grasped by Them both. Their hair
is dishevelled from fatigue, and Kṛṣṇa's peacock plume slips
from His hair. Again Their fickle, playful natures manifest, and at last Rādhā
holds Kṛṣṇa with Her arms.
We worship Lord Kṛṣṇa, who is mischievously keeping His
eyes closed, pretending to sleep, in order to hear the milkmaids' playful talks,
which are so pleasing to the ear and mind. Though Kṛṣṇa is
trying to restrain Himself, a gentle smile trickles from His lips drop by drop,
and He cannot check the rising tide of love, which causes His hair to begin
standing on end.
We do not see any object of worship other than Lord Kṛṣṇa,
whether He is deeply in thought, remembering how He decorated the breasts of
the resplendent young girl Rādhā with pictures drawn with leaves and
sprouts, or whether He is wandering in Vṛndāvana Forest, which is
adorned with the beauty of His dancing feet.
When oh when shall I see that young boy Kṛṣṇa, the unchallenged
king of those who are exquisitely beautiful, and when shall I experience along
with that vision the flooding nectar of His flute's sound, endowed with the
topmost musical embellishments?
O moonlike Kṛṣṇa, please soothe and cool my eyes with Your
sidelong glances, tinged with mercy; with the magnificence of your childhood,
touched by youth; and with Your wondrous playfulness, which nourishes the whole
kadā vā kālindī-kuvalaya-dala-śyāma-taralāḥ
kaṭākṣā lakṣyante kim api karuṇā-vīci-nicitāḥ
kadā vā kandarpa-pratibhaṭa-jaṭā-candra-śiśirāḥ
kam apy antas-toṣaṁ dadhati muralī-keli-ninadāḥ
When will Kṛṣṇa cast upon me His sidelong glances, which
are as dark blue as the blue lotuses growing in the Yamunā and tremulous
with waves of mercy? And when will my heart find ineffable joy in the playful
notes of His flute, which are more cooling than the moon held on the head of
Śiva, Cupid's enemy?
adhīram ālokitam ārdra-jalpitaṁ
gataṁ ca gambhīra-vilāsa-mantharam |
amandam āliṅgitam ākulonmada-
smitaṁ ca te nātha vidanti gopikāḥ ||27||
O Lord, the milkmaids are describing your fickle glances, your tender, witty
talking, Your slow gait, made graceful by the swell of deep passion, Your eager
embraces, and Your distracting, agitating, intoxicating smile.
[O Lord], please let me see Your bodily splendour, which is the most magnificently
beautiful in all the three worlds, which bears Your continuous smiles and Your
long, wide eyes, which is tightly embraced by the milkmaids of Vraja to their
breasts, and which diffuses an endless flood of bluish effulgence, like clusters
mayi prasādaṁ madhuraiḥ kaṭākṣair
vaṁśī-ninādānucarair vidhehi |
tvayi prasanne kim ihāparair nas
tvayy aprasanne kim ihāparair naḥ ||29||
O Lord, please show me Your mercy by casting upon me Your charming sidelong
glances, moving to the accompaniment of Your flute-song. If I have Your blessings,
what use are others'? And if I'm without Your blessings, what use are others'?
I fix my folded palms upon my head and, given voice by my increasing, ceaseless,
pitiable misery, pray, "O Lord, O ocean of mercy, please anoint me just
once with a drop of kindness from Your sidelong glance."
O Lord, our eyes have become restless to see Your childlike form, with its
clustered locks delightfully adorned with a peacock feather. That form, which
is worshiped by the buxom milkmaids' lotus eyes, possesses a face that has begun
defeating the beauty of the moon and the lotus.
tvac-chaiśavaṁ tri-bhuvanādbhutam ity avaihi
mac-cāpalaṁ ca tava vā mama vādhigamyam |
tat kiṁ karomi viralaṁ muralī-vilāsi
mugdhaṁ mukhāmbujam udīkṣitum īkṣaṇābhyām
O Kṛṣṇa, O flute-player, the sweetness of Your early age
is wonderful within these three worlds. You know My unsteadiness, and I know
Yours. No one else knows about this. I want to see Your beautiful, attractive
face somewhere in a solitary place, but how can this be accomplished?
O Kṛṣṇa, Your verbal duels with the impassioned, vivacious
milkmaids exhilarate the hearts of the fortunate. These talks are filled with
the nectar of the exchanges of love, rendered very pleasant by waves of witty
meanings, imbued with Your natural boyishness, and punctuated by the movements
of Your wide, dancing eyes.
punaḥ prasannendu-mukhena tejasā
puro’vatīrṇasya kṛpā-mahāmbudheḥ |
tad eva līlā-muralī-ravāmṛtaṁ
samādhi-vighnāya kadā nu me bhavet ||34||
Oh, when will Kṛṣṇa, the great ocean of mercy, appear before
me again with His spotless, effulgent moon-face? And when will the nectarous
sound of His flute, expressive of His pastimes, remove my great disease? [or,
"interrupt my deep meditation?"]
bālena mugdha-capalena vilokitena
man-mānase kim api cāpalam udvahantam |
lolena locana-rasāyanam īkṣaṇena
līlā-kiśoram upagūhitum utsukāḥ smaḥ ||35||
I am very eager to embrace that playful young boy Kṛṣṇa
with my restless, longing eyes. He is delightful to see, and with His tender,
artless, darting glances He fills my mind with an indescribable agitation.
harṣārdra-veṇu-svara-sampadā ca |
anena kenāpi manohareṇa
hā hanta hā hanta mano dunoṣi ||36||
O Kṛṣṇa, the playful movements of Your restless red lips,
the flood of Your joyous flute sounds, and other such enchantments of Yours
are, alas, alas, tormenting me!
yāvan na me nikhila-marma-dṛḍhābhighātaṁ
niḥsandhi-bandhanam upaiti na ko’pi tāpaḥ |
tāvad vibho bhavatu tāvaka-vaktra-candra-
candrātapa-dviguṇitā mama citta-dhārā ||37||
O Lord, until some terminal disease comes to strike violently at my vital
parts and cripple my limbs and joints, may the moon of Your face by the double-thick
awning for the current of my consciousness [against the burning heat of separation].
yāvan na me nara-daśā daśamī kuto’pi
randhrād upaiti timirīkṛta-sarva-bhāvā |
lāvaṇya-keli-sadanaṁ tava tāvad eva
Till the tenth stage of man (death) comes upon me through some physical defect,
enveloping me in total darkness, let me ever see the orb of Your moon-face,
which is the abode of both the pastimes of beauty and Your high-sounding flute.
My ear catches the tinkling of the bejewelled anklets of Kṛṣṇa,
the ocean of mercy. That tinkling is sweetened by His effulgent forefeet, which
are receiving waves of playful glances from His rolling eyes, and by the flooding
resonances of His flute-song.
he deva he dayita he bhuvanaika-bandho
he kṛṣṇa he capala he karuṇaika-sindho
he nātha he ramaṇa he nayanābhirāma
hā hā kadā nu bhavitāsi padaṁ dṛśor me
O my Lord! O dearest one! O only friend of the universe! O Kṛṣṇa,
O restless one, O only ocean of mercy! O my Lord, O my enjoyer, O beloved to
my eyes! Alas, when will You again be visible to me?
O my Lord, O Supreme Personality of Godhead, O friend of the helpless! You
are the only ocean of mercy! Because I have not met You, My inauspicious days
and nights have become unbearable. I do not know how I shall pass the time.
Alas, what shall I do? To whom shall I speak? Let whatever I have done in
hopes of meeting Kṛṣṇa be finished now. Please say something
auspicious, but do not speak about Kṛṣṇa. Alas, Kṛṣṇa
is lying within My heart like Cupid; therefore how can I possibly give up talking
of Him? I cannot forget Kṛṣṇa, whose smile is sweeter than
sweetness itself and who gives pleasure to my mind and eyes. Alas, my great
thirst for Kṛṣṇa is increasing moment by moment!
ābhyāṁ vilocanābhyām amburuha-vilocanaṁ bālam
dvābhyām api parirabdhuṁ dūre mama hanta daiva-sāmagrī
Alas! For me, a glimpse of that young boy with lotus eyes is far away-doubly
so His embraces. Alas, I am completely unlucky!
O Kṛṣṇa! When oh when shall I see Your lotus face, with
its deep red lips, its constant smiling, its very charming flute-song saturated
with jubilation, and its delightful, half-closed eyes that sometimes open very
wide and wander here and there?
When will the time come when that merciful boy Kṛṣṇa will
look upon me with His playful lotus eyes, which are soothing and cooling with
loving emotion, reddish at the corners and dark bluish at the irises, and wonderfully
rolling and dancing?
My eyes search for that enchantingly adorned one, Murari, whose thick locks
bear a peacock plume, and whose gaze darts here and there very quickly. His
lovely lips are red like bimba fruits, and with His sweet, gentle laughter he
seems to be churning [the ocean of my heart] with Mount Mandara.
kam api kamalāpāṅgodagra-prasaṅga-jaḍaṁ jagan-
madhurima-parīpākodrekaṁ vayaṁ mṛgayāmahe ||47||
We are searching for that person who has stolen the effulgence of thick clouds,
who has grown a bit languid from playing so much, who wears a crest made from
the playful feathers of an impassioned peacock, whose lotus face is so fascinating,
who has become stunned by long and close contact with the upward-pointing sidelong
glances of Kamalā (Rādhā), and who is the very overabundance
of perfection of all the sweet beauty in the universe.
When shall I see to my heart-s content my Lord (Kṛṣṇa),
for whom the sages must always search further along the path, but whose face,
which enchants all the three worlds, is always visible to the eyes of the milkmaids
of Vraja? Wlhen shall I see Him, whose lustre resembles a slightly open blue
lotus bud, and who is always beyond the reach of the words of the great sages
When shall I see my darling Lord (Kṛṣṇa), who is so fickle
yet so delightful to my eyes? His eyes are rolling, and as He looks out from
His sportive lotus face He sends a song of loving jokes through the holes of
The adolescent loveliness of Mukunda, whose appearance enraptures the connoisseurs,
clings to my mind, which is always fond of drawings from the libertine tradition.
His moon-face is cherished by the moon itself, and the softly glowing rays of
his lips redden His gentle smile [or, His kunda-flower-like teeth are reddened
by the effulgence of His gentle smile].
sarasatara-sarasiruha-sadṛśa-dṛśi deve |
mada-mudita-vadana-śaśi-madhurimaṇi līye ||51||
I am absorbed in contemplating my Lord, whose eyes resemble luscious lotuses
gently developing their beauty under the rays of the sun, and whose moon-face
is full of beauty, being exhilarated with delight at His having defeated the
milkmaids in the lovers' quarrels.
kala-ninada-galad-amṛta-ghana-sarasi deve |
satata-vahad-adhara-maṇi-madhurimaṇi līye ||52||
I am lost in thoughts of my Lord, who is a deep lake of nectar trickling forth
as the very melodious warbling of His flute, which He holds with His lotus-petal-like
fingers. I am absorbed in thoughts of the sweetness of His ruby-red lips, which
bear a constant series of tender laughs filled with an abundance of His innate
kuca-kalasa-ghusṛṇa-rasa-lasad-urasi deve |
muhur-adhika-mukha-kamala-madhurimaṇi līye ||53||
I am absorbed in thinking of my Lord. His chest shines with the sandalwood
paste from the pitcher-like breasts of the ardent milkmaids, who have been incited
to amorous battle by Cupid's flower arrows, and the sweet beauty of His lotus
face is magnified at every moment by His gentle smile, which is full of passionate
delight and which has stolen the splendour of the moon.
My eye desires to see the form of the young child of Vraja, who enchants the
whole universe. His dark eyebrows are curved, His blossoming eyelashes quite
thick, His rolling eyes full of passion, and His gentle speech saturated with
feeling. His nectarous lips are very red, and He sounds low, clear, soft notes
on His flute.
tat kaiśoraṁ tac ca vaktrāravindaṁ
tat kāruṇyaṁ te ca līlā-kaṭākṣāḥ
tat saundaryaṁ sā ca sāndra-smita-śrīḥ
satyaṁ satyaṁ durlabhaṁ daivate’pi ||55||
Truly, truly, even among the demigods it would be hard to find such beauty,
such sweet adolescence, such a lotus face, such tender compassion, such playful,
sidelong glances, or such lovely, mild smiling as we find in Kṛṣṇa.
On every path we see the childlike form of Murāri, whose one fixed vow
is to relieve all the afflictions of the people whose hearts are blossoming
with faith in Him. His soft, bright bluish cheeks glow with ever new effulgence.
O girlfriend, who is this slowly coming along the path to Mathurā? His
head is adorned with a peacock feather, and His body is more captivating than
an emerald column. His eyes are rolling, and His face is beautified by the sweetness
of His wonderfully fascinating smiles. His words, with their natural boyishness,
are very soothing, and His natural grace would win praise from an elephant in
Oh, what is this lustre in the form of a young boy! His feet, having in a
contest totally conquered clusters of lotuses, are the shelter for Lakṣmī-devī.
His hands, which express His love while playing the flute, are seats of artistic
beauty. His arms, diffusing a flood of sweetness, are the vessel of desire's
fulfilment for the doe-eyed milkmaids. And His face-ah, His face is beyond words.
Indeed, His face, abundantly adorned with lovely lips that possesses two or
three specially arranged waves of lustre, needs no other ornament. The wealth
of His artistic attributes and amorous gestures are beyond the understanding
of fools. Oh, oh, oh, how wonderful, how amazing, how very, very wonderfully
amazing is this splendour [in the form of the young boy Kṛṣṇa]!
agre samgrayati kām api keli-lakṣmīm
anyāsu dikṣv api vilocanam eva sākṣi |
hā hanta hasta-patha-dūram aho kim etad
āśā-kiśoram ayam amba jagat-trayaṁ me ||60||
Oh, what an ineffable sportive beauty Kṛṣṇa has fully revealed
before me! In all directions my eye witnesses this beauty. But alas, alas, He
is beyond my grasp! O mother, the three worlds are filled with my longed-for
Oh, when [shall I again fasten into a top-know] my Lord's thick locks, [lying]
like separate rows of bees [on His shoulders]? When [shall I hear] His mild
words, [see] His large eyes, [kiss] His sweet lips, [see] His sweetly beautiful
face, and [experience] His fickle nature?
paripālaya naḥ kṛpālaye-
ty asakṛj-jalpitam ārta-bāndhavaḥ |
vibhur ākarṇayitā kadā nu naḥ ||62||
If the Lord, the friend of the distressed, is surrounded by the beguiling
wound of His flute, when will He be able to hear us repeatedly crying out, "O
abode of mercy, please protect us!"
kadā nu kasyāṁ nu vipad-daśāyāṁ
kaiśora-gandhiḥ karuṇāmbudhir naḥ |
ālokayiṣyan viṣayīkaroti ||63||
Kṛṣṇa, an ocean of mercy, bears the fragrance of fresh youth.
When oh when will some danger to me focus His attention so that He looks upon
me with His wide eyes?
Oh, that I may see that young boy, who has a complexion as deep blue as a sapphire;
sweet lips like bimba fruit; charming, mild smiling; soothing, nectarous words;
cooling glances; and large, dawn-red eyes, and who is famous for His flute-song.
mādhuryād api madhuraṁ
manmathatā tasya kim api kaiśoram |
cāpalyād api capalaṁ
ceto bata harati hanta kiṁ kurmaḥ || 65 ||
The ineffable adolescence of Kṛṣṇa, the father of Cupid,
is sweeter than sweetness yet fickler than fickleness. Alas, that adolescence
has stolen away my heart! What shall I do now?
vakṣaḥ-sthale ca vipulaṁ nayanotpale ca
manda-smite ca mṛdulaṁ mada-jalpite ca |
bimbādhare ca madhuraṁ muralī-rave ca
bālaṁ vilāsa-nidhim ākalaye kadā nu ||66||
Oh, when shall I see that young boy (Kṛṣṇa), who is an ocean
of jubilation and a treasury of playfulness? Broad are His lotus eyes and His
chest, mild are His gentle smiles and His loving talks, sweet are His cherry-red
lips and His flute-song.
The fortunate, who have heaped up pious merit, can see (Kṛṣṇa)
the original person, who brings their eyes under control with His extremely
tender glances, whose lips are sweet with the nectar of his open smile, and
who has adorned His head with a peacock feather.
māraḥ svayaṁ nu madhura-dyuti-maṇḍalaṁ nu
mādhuryam eva nu mano-nayanāmṛtaṁ nu |
veṇī-mṛjo nu mama jīvita-vallabho nu
bālo 'yam abhyudayate mama locanāya ||68||
My dear friends, where is that Kṛṣṇa, Cupid personified,
who has the effulgence of a kadamba flower, who is sweetness itself, the nectar
for my eyes and mind, He who loosens the hair of the gopīs, who is the
supreme source of transcendental bliss, and my life and soul? Has He come before
my eyes again?
He comes before us-the cooling balm for our eyes-wearing many tinkling ornaments
on His body and a peacock feather on His head. His forearms are swinging, His
eyes move restlessly with the agitation of love, and the moon of His lotus face
displays a tender, gentle smile.
This child (Kṛṣṇa), who is the ornament for the intimate
community of cowherd boys and girls, whose lively glances are so soothing, and
whose moon-face has a wealth of soft, tender smiles, gladdens my heart and enters
deep within it.
kim idam adhara-vīthī-kḷpta-vaṁśī-ninādaṁ
kirati nayanayor naḥ kām api prema-dhārām |
tad idam amara-vīthī-durlabhaṁ vallabhaṁ nas
tribhuvana-kamanīyaṁ daivataṁ jīvitaṁ ca ||72||
How wonderful! The sound of the flute Kṛṣṇa is holding to
His lips is pouring forth an indescribable flood of divine love before our very
eyes! This is rare even among the planets of the demigods. Kṛṣṇa,
our darling, our God, our very life, delights the three worlds.
tad idam upanataṁ tamāla-nīlaṁ
mukharita-veṇu-vilāsi jīvitaṁ me ||73||
This person approaching me is dark bluish like a tamāla tree. His charming
eyes, which resemble stars, move restlessly, the shining orb of His moon-face
is overflowing with delight [or, His face radiates joy like the rising moon],
and He sportively begins sounding His flute. He is my very life.
Here is that Kṛṣṇa, my very life! He is the acme of fickleness,
the one ultimate end of the existence of the fickle-minded milkmaids, the epitome
of cleverness, the extreme perfection of the artistic skill of four-faced Brahmā,
the limit of good fragrance, the utmost embodiment of all sorts of astounding
pastimes, the culmination of good fortune, and the zenith of auspiciousness
Oh! My good deeds have reached their culmination: Kṛṣṇa
has appeared before my eyes! The moon of His face is made doubly refreshing
by its sweet tenderness, and He sprinkles me with the current of nectar dropping
note by note from the holes of His flute. He is the object of my words, which,
though mad, are fortunate [to be describing Him].
tejase’stu namo dhenu-pāline loka-pāline |
I bow down to the personified splendour (Kṛṣṇa), who is
the protector of the cows-and also all the worlds-and who reclines on the sloping
breasts of Rādhā-and also on Śeṣanāga.
brahma-rāśi-mahase namo namaḥ ||77||
I bow again and again before Him (Kṛṣṇa), whose glowing
complexion is embellished with the kuṅkuma powder glorified by its place
on the breasts of the cowherd men's wives, who is the original creator of the
flute song, and who possesses the glory of innumerable Brahmās.
Here comes my very life [Kṛṣṇa]! Having assumed a sporting
attitude, He slowly approaches on tender lotus feet weighed down by softly tinkling
anklets as He recollects various charming flute-songs.
si˝cann uda˝citam idaṁ mama karṇa-yugmam |
āyāti me nayana-bandhur ananya-bandhor
Here comes [my very life, Kṛṣṇa]! The beauty of His playful
sidelong glances overflows with bliss, and He sprinkles my two perked-up ears
with the nectar of His sportive flute-songs. He is the only friend for my eyes.
Seeing me from a distance with a flood of sidelong glances, my Lord walks
toward me with the sportive grace of an elephant and moves my heart with the
current of flute-sound emanating from His mouth, which is filled with brightly
This is He! This is He-my Lord [Kṛṣṇa], playing on His flute!
He possesses two wondrous feet, which are the shelter for the shelterless, which
glow with the brilliance of many ornaments, which move this way and that, which
are abundant with divine pastimes, and which fill the three worlds with the
mellows of love.
This is He, who removed the burning distresses of great sages. This is He,
who stole the clothes of the impassioned wives of the cowherd men of Vraja.
This is He, who curbed the pride of Indra, lord of the third world (the heavenly
realm). This is He, who has stolen the lotus of my heart.
sarvaj˝atve ca maugdhye ca
sārvabhaumam idaṁ mahaḥ |
nirviśyan nayanaṁ hanta
nirvāṇa-padam aśnute ||83||
This personified glory [Kṛṣṇa] has attained all excellence,
both in His omniscience and His innocence. Having entered my eye, He is enjoying
great bliss. This is a great wonder!
Behold this nectar for the eyes, the lustre of this young boy Kṛṣṇa!
His hands teach graceful gestures to the autumnal lotus, His feet excel freshly
grown desire-tree sprouts in tenderness, and the beauty of His eyes destroys
the pride of all comparable things.
The bliss manifesting itself [in the wondrous lustre of the young boy Kṛṣṇa]
reigns supreme between the sloping breasts of the beautiful milkmaids of Vraja.
That spreading, glowing bliss reaches a rarefied stage far beyond the appreciation
of the eyes of anyone by the milkmaids of Vṛndāvana, and every day,
every moment, and every twinkling of an eye that bliss, embodied as Kṛṣṇa,
arranges pastimes and attracts even Arundhatī [chastity personified] with
the gentle charm of His tender smile.
All glories to Kṛṣṇa, my very life and the enchanter of
the three worlds! His now-blooming youth is adorned with the last flickering
of childhood. His eyes flashing with delight, He bewilders Cupid with the nectar
of His smile. His beauty beguiles at every moment and out of love He drinks
from the mouth of His flute.
citraṁ tad etac caraṇāravindaṁ
citraṁ tad etan nayanāravindam |
citraṁ tad etad vadanāravindaṁ
citraṁ tad etad vapur asya citram ||89||
How wondrous are these lotus feet of that [Lord Kṛṣṇa]!
How wondrous these lotus eyes! How wondrous this lotus face! Oh, how wondrous,
wondrous is this body!
I bow down to [Kṛṣṇa, who is] the only ornament of the entire
world, yet who is ornamented by the pitcher-like breasts of Rādhā.
He is the great, central jewel among the necklace of emerald-like young girls
gharmāṅkuraḥ kim api gumphati kṛṣṇa-devaḥ
Oh, what ineffable beauty my Lord Kṛṣṇa is displaying-a
delightful beauty enhanced by a loveliness acquired when the fresh kuṅkuma
on His darling's [Rādhā's] breasts scattered over His own body as
He grabbed them [and She fought Him off], and enhanced as well by the drops
of perspiration that seem to play on the mirror-like orbs of His cheeks.
I take shelter of [Kṛṣṇa], who is the shelter of everyone
in the universe, who has the form of a human being, who is adorned with a peacock
feather, and who is the be-all and end-all of the conjugal mellow.
nādyāpi paśyati kadāpi nidarśanāya
citte tathopaniṣadāṁ sudṛśāṁ sahasram
sa tvaṁ cirān nayanayor anayoḥ padavyāṁ
svāmin kayā nu kṛpayā mama saṁnidhatse ||94||
O Lord, even to this very day thousands of Upaniṣadic sages have not
seen you with their eyes or in their hearts. So by what great mercy of Your's
have You come within the range of my distressed vision for so long?
O Keśava, what is this bright glow of Your moon-face? What is this appearance
of Your's, which is beyond description? Let that [glow] and that [appearance]
be relished [by Yourself or by those souls competent to do so]. I simply bow
down before You again and again, and yet again.
O Lord, the moon, having been conquered by Your moonlike face, has taken shelter
at Your feet and split into ten parts-that is, Your toenails-thereby gaining
much greater brilliance and beauty than before. O Lord, how great is even a
slight manifestation of Your mercy!
tat tvan-mukhaṁ katham ivāmbuja-tulya-kakṣaṁ
vācām avāci nanu parvaṇi parvaṇīndoḥ |
tat kiṁ bruve kim aparaṁ bhuvanaika-kānta-
veṇu tvad-ānanam anena samaṁ nu yat syāt ||97||
O Kṛṣṇa, how can anyone compare Your face to the lotus?
And as for the moon- it attains a simply unmentionable state on the new-moon
day. So what else can I say? What other thing in the universe could possibly
equal the loveliness of Your face?
If you want to hear, then listen carefully to something that even the incomparable
poets of old did not take note of. And that is this: The lamp of the moon deserves
to bear for a long time the burden of worshiping your moon-face in the ārati
All glories to Your cooling smiles, which are an overflowing ocean of nectar
destroying all other joys with unbroken streams of the elixir of bliss!
kāmaṁ santu sahasraśaḥ katipaye sārasya-dhaureyakāḥ
kāmaṁ vā kamanīyatā-parimala-svārājya-baddha-vratāḥ
naivevaṁ vivadāmahe na ca vayaṁ deva priyaṁ brūmahe
yat satyaṁ ramaṇīyatā-pariṇatis tvayy eva pāraṁ
Let there be thousands of men who possess relishable beauty, and let there
be thousands of men who are steady in the glory of the fragrance of attractiveness.
We shall neither quarrel with them nor speak well of them. But the truth, O
Lord, is that in You the perfection of attractive beauty has reached its limit.
O Kṛṣṇa, being situated in You, the following things have
achieved the fruit of their transient existences: the wives of the cowherd men
who become restless, their shyness destroyed, and who turn humble with love
for You; songs, which become swollen with passion; Your excess of frivolity,
which becomes very sweet; and my fully elated words, which scatter sweetness
by stringing a garland [of verses about You].
bhuvanaṁ bhavanaṁ vilāsinī śrīs
tanayastāmarasāsanaḥ smaraś ca |
tad api tvac-caritaṁ vibho vicitram ||102||
O Lord, although the entire universe is Your abode, Lakṣmī is Your
consort, Lord Brahmā and Pradyumna and Your sons, and the chiefs of the
demigods are Your attendants, still, Your pastimes [here in Vraja] are most
All glories to Kṛṣṇa, the most beneficent in all the three
worlds, whose forehead is marked with musk-tilaka and whose love and joy are
increased by the love-sports of Vraja's milkmaids!
premadaṁ ca me kāmadaṁ ca me
vedanaṁ ca me vaibhavaṁ ca me |
jīvanaṁ ca me jīvitaṁ ca me
daivataṁ ca me deva nāparam ||104||
O Lord, You and You alone are my worshipful Deity, giver of love, fulfiller
of desire. You alone are my knowledge, my power and wealth, my vital force,
and my very life.
vāco nas tava vaibhave |
cintā nas tava śaiśave ||105||
O Lord, let our words be empowered to sweetly describe Your beauty, and let
our thoughts swell with eagerness when dwelling on Your childhood.
yāni tac-caritāmṛtāni rasanā-lehyāni dhanyātmanāṁ
ye vā śaiśava-cāpalya-vyatikarā rādhāvarodhonmukhāḥ
yā vā bhāvita-veṇu-gīta-gatayo līlā-mukhāmbhoruhe
dhārāvāhikayā vahantu hṛdaye tāny eva tāny
eva me ||106||
Let there ever flow in my heart the nectarous pastimes tasted by the tongues
of blessed, fortunate souls; Your mischievous childhood pranks (such as laying
in wait to obstruct Rādhā); and the sportive gestures of Your lotus
face, inspired by Your rippling flute-song.
O Lord, if I am engaged in firm devotional service to You, then I can very
easily perceive Your divine youthful form. And as far as liberation is concerned,
she stands at my door with folded hands, waiting to serve me, and all material
conveniences of religiosity, economic development, and sense gratification stand
jaya jaya jaya deva deva deva
jaya jaya jaya deva kṛṣṇa deva
All glories, all glories, all glories to You, O Lord, whose holy name is auspicious
for all three worlds! All glories, all glories, all glories to You, Lord Kṛṣṇa!
You are the incarnation who are nectar for the ear, mind, and eyes.
I bow down to You, Kṛṣṇa, who shine forth in the ecstatic
states of those very pious souls adorned with repeated agitations occasioned
by a spontaneous deluge of excessive transcendental delight. I bow to You, who
are the ornament of glorious Gokula and who are the unique ocean of sweet, loving
tenderness glowing in the distance beyond words and thought. To You, to whatever
glory You embody, I bow down.
With the production of this bouquet of verses, which has the lasting fame
of Dāmodara as its capital and which adorns īśānadeva's
lotus feet, Līlāśuka has written about You, O Lord Kṛṣṇa,
this nectar for Your ears. May it continue to flow (to be heard, chanted, and
sung) for one hundred days of Brahmā.
Repeatedly pouring an indescribable shower of nectar into the ear-holes of
those fortunate souls who relish, through repetition, the fragrance of its waves
of poetic sweetness, this nectar fo the ears of Kṛṣṇa, who
is sunk deep in the minds and eyes of the beautiful-eyed milkmaids (and in ours),
surges in voices and ears.
O Kṛṣṇa, always remembering the nectarous, low, soft sounds
of Your flute, as well as Your eyes, doubly expanded with mercy, I pray that
wherever my sight shall wander, You will always manifest Your beauty, sweetness,
and opulence before me.