Aju Vipine Yaota Kana

āju bipine yā-ota kāna mūrati mūrata kusuma bāṇa janu jaladhara rucira ańga bhańgī naṭa-bara śohanī īṣata hasata badana-cānda taruṇī nayana nayana phānda bimba adhare murali khurali tri-bhubana-mano-mohinī

Today Krishna goes to the forest, his form itself the very image of Cupid's arrow; his dark limbs are lovely as a raincloud, his every gesture graceful as a master dancer. His moon-face smiles gently, his eyes cast their glance like a snare for young women; on his bimba-red lips the flute plays, enchanting the three worlds.

kusuma milita cikura-puñja caudike bhramara bhramarī guñja piñcha-nicaya racita mukuṭa makara-kuṇḍala dolanī cañcala nayana khañjana jora saghane yā-ota śrabaṇa ora gīma śohana ratana-rāja motima-hāra lolanī

Flowers are woven into his thick locks of hair, and on every side bees hum around him; his crown is fashioned of peacock feathers, and his makara-shaped earrings swing to and fro. His restless eyes move like a pair of khanjana birds, ever turning toward his ear; a garland of gems shines beautifully, and a string of pearls sways at his chest.

kaṭi pīta paṭa kińkiṇī bāja mada-gati ati kuñjara-rāja janu-lambita kadamba-mālā matta madhukara bhoraṇī aruṇa baraṇa caraṇa kañja aruṇa taraṇi kiraṇa gañja gobinda-dāsa hṛdaya rañja mañju mañjāra bolanī

At his waist a yellow cloth tied with tinkling bells, his gait as proud and stately as the king of elephants; a garland of kadamba flowers hangs down to where drunken bees wander about it. His lotus feet are reddish in hue, outshining even the rising sun's rays; Govinda Dasa says he delights the heart, calling out sweetly like a graceful cat-eyed one.