Chapter CXXXV

_Rādhā:_ A mirror in hand, a flower in my hair,
Surm of my eyes, tāmbūl of my mouth,
Musk on my breast, a necklace about my throat,
All the gear on my body, the life of my house.

Wings to the bird, and water to fish,
Life of my life--I know Thou art these--
But tell me, O Mādhav, what art Thou in sooth?
_Avers Vidyāpati: Each is both._

CXXXVL.

_Rādhā:_ What would you ask of my feelings, my dear,--
Can I expound such love and affection
As are moment by moment transformed?

From the day of my birth I have seen His beauty,
And yet are my eyes unsatisfied:
My ears have continually heard His honeyed speech,
But I have not attained the path of audition.

Many a night have I passed in play,
And never have learnt what is dalliance:
Myriad aeons I held Him close to my heart,
And yet no rest has reached that heart.

How many a one tormented and passion-tost
I have seen--without seeing!
_Vidyāpati says: For your heart's ease_
_You have met with One who is nonpareil._