The minnow-like eyes of the sakhīs and mañjarīs swam happily in the ocean of Śrī Yugala’s incomparable beauty. The girls began to talk with each other, speaking in sweet, muffled voices. Someone said, “Look friend! Rādhā and Kṛṣṇa together are beautiful like a sapphire inlaid with gold.” Someone else said, “But friend, that is too hard. I’m thinking of something very soft, like a blue lotus and a golden lotus glistening with the nectar of beauty.” Hearing that, someone replied, “But a lotus withers at night. In my mind, they are like a streak of lightning embraced by a newly-formed rain cloud.” Someone else said, “A streak of lightning is restless; they are tranquil. They are like a young tamāla tree caressed by a golden creeper.” Another girl said, “But friend, those are immobile. These two are directly the sweet union of śṛṅgāra (the erotic sentiment) and prema-rasa (the nectar of love). Nothing in the world compares to our Śrī Yugala. They can only be compared to themselves.” Another said, “Friend! Look! Look at the sweet smile blossoming on Śrīmatī’s lovely face as she sleeps in her lover’s arms.” Yet another girl said, “I think she smiled after looking at her sweetheart’s face and then immediately fell asleep. Therefore, her smile remains.” After hearing the sakhīs’ conversation, the sādhaka-dāsī felt delighted and began to swim in a sea of rasa.
Meanwhile, at Vṛndā’s cue, the birds, bees and so on began to sing in soft, sweet tones. The nectar-thirsty bees made a humming sound like that of Kāmadeva’s auspicious conch shell as they flew about a cluster of blossoming flowers. Like Kāma’s vīṇā, the cuckoos began to sing kuhū kuhū in the fifth note. The peacocks and peahens tried to rouse Śrī Yugala with the sound ke kā. Though being awakened by the sweet calls of the birds, Śrī Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa remained on the bed in close embrace, dreading their separation. They were unable to give up their charming pleasure-bed, though being anxious that the night had ended. Śrī Śuka Muni, who is an expert on the Bhāgavata, is skillful (dakṣa) and wise (vicakṣaṇa) in waking the world from its illusory sleep through beautiful stories. In the same way, two parrots named Dakṣa and Vicakṣaṇa in the Vraja bower were directed by Vṛndā to sing a melodious song to waken the tired couple from their pleasant slumber. Dakṣa sang, “O one who is skilled in all the pastimes of love! O one who is nectar for the gopīs’ eyes! O one who is like a drunken elephant in his sweetheart’s river of love! O one who floods the whole world with a river of his sweetness! O ocean of rasa! It is no wonder that you fell asleep after drowning in the joy of tasting your lover’s lips. But the night, which gives the time for your līlā, has now ended and cuts short your festival of rasa.* Therefore, you must quickly wake up!”
Then Vicakṣaṇa began to sing, “O joy of Gokula! O moon risen from the ocean of Nanda’s heart! O blossom from the creeper of Vrajeśvarī’s virtue.** O master! Please give up your sleep and loosen the bond of your darling’s close embrace. Get ready to go to Vraja. The night has become morning and the sun has risen in the east. Eager to see your moonlike face, your mother is right now headed to your bedroom along with Paurṇamāsī Devī. Therefore, go home and make your family happy.”
*The word for night here is kṣaṇadā. Kṣaṇa means a length of time. Dā means either giving or cutting.
**Vicakṣaṇa is trying to awaken Śrī Kṛṣṇa’s madhura-rasa-submerged mind by reminding him of his mother and father. The reason for this is that vātsalya-rasa and madhura-rasa are disharmonious.
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