The moon is shining forth, with its mark clearly visible and showering light, just like the cart that came in touch with Krishna’s foot and therefore spilled the milk.*
120
I rejected the apologies and entreaties of that rogue, following the advice of my female friend; now, even if he were to say cruel things to me, I would go under the pretext of arguing with him.
You are a “shy” one! There you are, rearranging at daybreak your string of pearls that had turned into a “sacred thread.” From this we can infer that you could teach us all a lesson in viparita!*
That stream of birds flying up from the palace, young girl, looks like a victory-flag that, torn off by the wind, is blown away.
You who keep masses of bees awake, cause them to swarm around you, and ward them off with your prickly petals! Golden ketaki! May you never spread out your full fra-grance!
O girl with unmoving eyes and eyebrows curved like a bow! Why to you ponder what is done with. Through the offences of base characters, love ripens into something dis- tasteful, just as do molasses by the flies that swarm over them.
125
This girl, with eyebrows crooked from pretended anger, flung her flower-garland towards her friend who was coming out of the bedroom in such a way that the lamp, struck by it, fell over.
Although the sun has risen, it does not light up the sky that is overcast with snow clouds, like a lamp in the mouth of an earthen bowl filled with coarse ghee.*
Whether I get up, sit down, lie on my bed, turn around, twist my body, or walk about, like asthma that affects the heart, my lover makes me dizzy all the time.
A single glance serves as the messenger girl looking after an affair, of two young people who have not yet fathomed each other’s minds and who are scared of both a rejection of a direct approach and an end to their romance because infatuation might wear off.
Her body becomes lively with its otherwise lifeless buttocks due to the sex with an excellent lover, and thus it can be made to writhe in all kinds of ways by those who know how to, just as the mountain Mandara became mobile with its otherwise immobile slopes, due to the excellent serpent being tied to it, and could be pulled hither and thither by the gods.*
130
Bringing a bushel of rice, the frightened farmer tells the doctor that on the breast of his wife a red skin-disease has broken out, looking like a half-moon.
You who have puckered your lips like a bud, with eyes halfclosed in anticipation of the bits of ashes! Stop! This is not smoke, but a bee that is following your breath!
This young woman is floating on me, my lady of the house, like a swarm of geese on a lake; but you have found a permanent abode in it and dwell inside me like the stalk of a lotus in a lake.
Now the thief is blessing your breasts, lovely girl! When your garment slipped off them, the night-watchman’s arms trembled violently and sweat began to run down them, and he could escape his grip.*
You young mango bud! You were plucked by my friend, so that you could see her chest as she raised her arm; never mind, the obtainment of the highest place is your bright future.*
135
Your necklace, lovely girl, makes my heart all dizzy, just like a rope-bridge in a wild mountainous country: it is dangling from the lofty peaks of your breasts and raised again by your hips, while it spans the impass of your middle.
The many stars shine in the vicinity of the playful moon’s digit, as if they were drops of nectar exuding from the bow wielded by Kama.*
You brought me the lover who did not know the right time; you took away my damned sulking; at the very beginning of our making love, you went away, night!—like a messenger woman.
Like an elephant, who walks like a superior woman, touches with his trunk that strikes against his thighs the water of a lake, and drinks it, you, the highest fulfillment for women, deprive her female friend of her fortitude, touching her with your hand by stroking her thighs.
You all-enduring Earth! You pass your life unmoved, carried on the back of the Tortoise, clinging to it. What would be the use of the lap of him who has a rough skin?*
140
You must put your steps in a straight line, my friend, and must give up all your urban ways! Here the village headman will punish you even for a sidelong glance, accusing you of being a witch.*
Hearing that one sings here the note “Re” ⋮ praises a bull, we, keen on music, have arrived. Who knew that this cow-stable takes all its pride in honoring cows!*
Shiva alone knew the character of his beloved’s lips; the other gods were fools. For he saw that poison and nectar are the same thing and drank the cosmic poison alone.*
“Let him never return!” That same bad luck I created for myself at the time of his departure with these thoughts, has now become the reason that the damned master of the house is staying at home.*
Quickly it passed along the young men as if they were beads of a rosary; but her finger came to rest when it reached you, lucky man, as if you were the central bead.
145
There is only one person who lives, though void of a heart, wisely and happily, and that is Rahu; for he does not carry a stomach that is difficult to fill and is the cause of all kinds of humiliation.*
I can see her face, at the gate of the town: her ears drenched in tears as one of my hands loosens her braided hair and the other one lifts up her chin.*
As the sole base of her life, though unreliable and always causing inner torment, that wretched girl carries inside her—you, as if you were the air in her nose on which life depends, which moves constantly and produces the warmth of the body.
[She:] My one mind says “I shall go,” but my other heart says “I shall not go.” [Her friend:] It is only fitting that you should have two hearts, beautiful girl, because you have stolen the mind of your lover!
Lying on eranda leaves, giving rise to sweat, with ample thighs and loins, when making love, the peasant’s wife removes Kama’s fever—just as a poultice of hot sand, resting on eranda leaves, of heavy weight and causing sweating, reduces a fever when applied.
150
“Like a friend she has guided my new bride to the bed-chamber and makes no sexual demands on me!” When the merchant praised with these words his lady of the house, his neighbor laughed.
What hope is there that this ketaki in the course of time will develop lovely breasts? In the same measure that she grows, her thorns will multiply.
You, pretending to be asleep! Listening to the sound of my breathing! Why do you pierce me with your fierce sighs, as if you were Cupid aiming with his arrows at a target he can merely hear and concentrating on its sound?
Where are those silken garments—the snake skins? Where the strings of jewels from serpents to decorate yourself with? After Kaliya the “snake” ⋮ your rich patron has left you, “Yamuna,” you can be ⋮ must be approached by everybody.*
The young woman did not say a word, nor did she cast a forgiving glance, when I was prostrate at her feet, all she did was to turn around the cage with the parrot.*
155
Laughing and clapping with their hands, the young men watched her, with eyes agitated by passion: flung away time and again and coming back to her body, the bee made her perform a dance.
You with the lotus face! Embankments that prevent a spreading in all directions serve as a decoration for rivers, whose waters are naturally wild—and for your eyes conveying all your feelings, a constraint that prevents them from looking into the