The Loves of Krishna in Indian Painting and Poetry Part 6

Sandal and garment of yellow and lotus garlands upon his body of blue, In his dance the jewels of his ears in movement dangling over his smiling cheeks, Krishna here disports himself with charming women given to love.

He embraces one woman, he kisses another, and fondles another beautiful one.

He looks at another one lovely with smiles, and starts in pursuit of another woman.

Krishna here disports himself with charming women given to love.[54]

Suddenly Radha sees Krishna[55] and going into the midst of the cowgirls, she kisses him violently and clasps him to her; but Krishna is so inflamed by the other girls that he abandons her in a thicket.

As Radha broods on his behaviour, she is filled with bitter sadness.[56]

Yet her love is still so strong that she cannot bring herself to blame him and instead calls to mind his charm.

I remember Krishna, the jests he made, who placed his sport in the pastoral dance, The sweet of whose nectar of lips kept flowing with notes of his luring melodious flute, With the play of whose eyes and the toss of whose head the earrings kept dangling upon his cheeks.

I remember Krishna, the jests he made, who placed his sport in the pastoral dance, Whose brow had a perfect sandal spot, as among dark clouds the disc of the moon, Whose door-like heart was without pity when crushing the bosoms of swelling b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Desire even now in my foolish mind for Krishna, For Krishna--without me--l.u.s.ting still for the herd-girls.

Seeing only the good in his nature, what shall I do?

Agitated I feel no anger. Pleased without cause, I acquit him.

And she continues:

O make him enjoy me, my friend, that Krishna so fickle, I who am shy like a girl on her way to the first of her trysts of love, He who is charming with flattering words, I who am tender In speech and smiling, he on whose hip the garment lies loosely worn.

O make him enjoy me, my friend, that Krishna so fickle, Me who sweated and moistened all over my body with love's exertion, That Krishna whose cheeks were lovely with down all standing on end as he thrilled, Whose half-closed eyes were languid, and restless with br.i.m.m.i.n.g desire.

O make him enjoy me, my friend, that Krishna so fickle, Me whose ma.s.ses of curls were like loose-slipping flowers, whose amorous words Were vague as of doves, that Krishna whose bosom is marked With scratches, surpa.s.sing all in his love that the science of love could teach.

O make him enjoy me, my friend, that Krishna so fickle, To whose act of desire accomplished the anklets upon my feet bejewelled Vibrated sounding, who gave his kisses seizing the hair of the head, And to whom in his pa.s.sionate love my girdle sounded in eloquence sweet.

As Radha sits longing for him in lonely sadness, Krishna suddenly repents, is filled with remorse and abruptly goes in quest of her. He does not know, however, where to find her and as he wanders, he expresses his sorrow.

Radha so deeply wronged, troubled to see me surrounded by women, She went, and I, in fear of my guilt, made no attempt to stop her, Alas, alas, she is gone in anger, her love destroyed.

O my slender one, I imagine your heart is dejected, I cannot console you kneeling in homage, I know not where to find you.

If you pardon me now I shall never repeat this neglect of you ever-- O beautiful, give me your pleasure again. I burn with desire.

As Krishna searches unavailingly, Radha's friend lights upon him and conveys news of her love-tormented state.

Armour she makes of tender lotus garlands to hide her bosom from you, Large garlands, as if to protect you from heavy showers of shafts from the G.o.d of love.

She fears an attack of Love upon you, and lies away hidden; She wastes away, Krishna, parted from you.

As he hears this, Krishna is torn with longing. He does not, however, go immediately to Radha but instead asks the friend to bring Radha to him.

The girl departs, meets Radha and gives her Krishna's message. She then describes Krishna's love-lorn state:

When he hears the noise of swarms of bees, he covers his ears from their humming; Pain he feels, night after night, of a heart in love that is parted.

He droops, separated from you, O friend, the wearer of garlands.

The girl a.s.sures Radha that Krishna is contrite and urges her to delay no longer.

He has gone into the trysting place, full of all desired bliss, O you with lovely hips delay no more O go forth now and seek him out, him the master of your heart, him endowed with pa.s.sion's lovely form.

On fallen feathers of the birds, on leaves about the forest floor, he lies excited making there his bed, And he gazes out upon the path, looks about with trembling eyes, anxious, looking out for your approach.

There on that bed of tender leaves, O lotus-eyed, embrace his hips, his naked hips from whence the girdle drops, Those hips from whence the garment falls, those loins which are a treasure heap, the fountain and the source of all delight.

Radha would willingly go but she is now so sick with love that she can no longer move. The girl has, therefore, to go once more to Krishna and describe Radha's state.

In secret on every side she sees you Drinking the honied sweet of her lips.

Where Radha stays now she wilts away, She may live no longer without your skill, Again and again she keeps telling her friend, 'O why must Krishna delay to come?'

Of her jewels abundant her limbs she adorns and spreads out her bed-- Imagining you on her fluttering couch of leaves-- And so to indulge, in a hundred ways, in the sport of love She is fully resolved, arranging her bed with every adornment; Not another night may that beautiful girl endure without you.

Why so much apathy, Krishna, beside the fig tree?

O brother, why not go to the pasture of eyes, the abode of bliss?

Despite this message, however, Krishna still delays and Radha, who has half expected him, endures still greater anguish.

My lover has failed to come to the trysting place, It is perhaps that his mind is dazed, or perhaps that he went to another woman Or lured perhaps by festive folk, that he delays, Or perhaps along the dark fringe of the forest he wanders lost.

She imagines him toying with another cowgirl.

A certain girl, excelling in her charms unrivalled, dallies with the sportive Krishna Her face, a moon, is fondled by the fluttering petals in her hair, The exciting moisture of his lips induces langour in her limbs, Her earrings bruise her cheeks while dancing with the motion of her head, Her girdle by the tremor of her moving hips is made to tinkle, She utters senseless sounds, through fever of her love, He decorates with crimson flowers her curly tresses, curls which are upon her lively face a ma.s.s of clouds, Flowers with crimson flashings lovely in the forest of her tresses, haunt of that wild creature love's desire.

And thinking of her own hapless state, Radha contrasts it bitterly with that of the fortunate girl.

She who with the wearer of the garland lies in dalliance.

With him whose lovely mouth is like a lotus that is opening, With him whose words are nectar in their sweetness and their tenderness, With him who wears a garment streaked with gold, all white and beautiful Not made to sigh is she, my friend, derided by her girls!

Next morning Radha is standing with her girls when Krishna tries to approach her. Now, however, he has come too late. Radha has suffered too greatly. Her patience is at an end and although Krishna implores her to forgive him, she rounds on him in anger, ordering him to return to the other girl whom he has just left.[57]

Your mouth, O Krishna, darkened, enhances the crimson beauty of your lovely body, Enhances with a, darkness, a blackness that arises from the kissing of eyes coloured with black unguent.

Go, Krishna, go. Desist from uttering these deceitful words.

Follow her, you lotus-eyed, she who can dispel your trouble, go to her.

I who follow you devoted--how can you deceive me, so tortured by love's fever as I am?

O Krishna, like the look of you, your body which appears so black, that heart of yours a blackness shall a.s.sume.

Follow her, you lotus-eyed, she who can dispel your trouble, go to her.

Faced with these reproaches, Krishna slinks away. Radha's friend knows, however, that despite her bitter anger, Radha desires nothing more than his love. She attempts, therefore, to instil in her a calmer frame of mind, urging her to end her pride and take Krishna back. She goes to look for Krishna and while she is absent, Krishna returns. Standing before Radha, he implores her once again to end her anger.

If you speak but a little the moon-like gleam of your teeth will destroy the darkness frightful, so very terrible, come over me; Your moon of a face which glitters upon my eye, the moon-bird's eye, now makes me long for the sweet of your lips.

O loved one, O beautiful, give up that baseless pride against me, My heart is burnt by the fire of longing; give me that drink so sweet of your lotus face.

O you with beautiful teeth, if you are in anger against me, strike me then with your finger nails, sharp and like arrows, Bind me, entwining, with the cords of your arms, and bite me then with your teeth, and feel happy punishing.

O loved one, O beautiful, give up that baseless pride against me.

At these words, Radha's anger leaves her; and when Krishna withdraws, it is to go to the forest and await her coming. Radha's joy returns. She decks herself in the loveliest of her ornaments and then, accompanied by her maids, moves slowly to the tryst.[58] As they reach the bower which Krishna has constructed, her friend urges her to enter.

O you who bear on your face the smile that comes of the ardour of pa.s.sion Sport with him whose love-abode is the floor of the beautiful bower.

Radha approaches and their love strains to its height.