(Kavitt)
Roop Ke Sarovar Mein Ali Kumudaavali Hain,
Laal Hain Chakor Tahaan Radha Mukh Chand Hain. [1]
Chhavi Ki Mareechin Saun Seenchat Hai Nis Din,
Koti-Koti Ravi-Sasi Laagain Ati Mand Hain. [2]
Ik Tak Rahain Mukh Naam Sukh Lahain Phir,
Kripa Drishti Chahain Sukh Roop Nand-Nand Hain. [3]
Jaakaun Ved Gaavain Muni Dhyan Hoon Na Paavain,
Tai Tau Bali-Bali Jaavain Hit Phanse Prem Phand Hain. [4]
- Shri Chandralal Goswami, Bhavna Pachisi
Gosvāmī Candralāl Jī says: In that divine lake of beauty (rūpa), the sakhīs are like buds of white lotuses, Śrī Kṛṣṇa is like the cakora bird, and Śrī Rādhā’s lotus-face is like the moon. Beholding it and drinking its nectar of rasa, Śrī Kṛṣṇa lives sustained. [1]
The incomparable radiance of Śrī Rādhā’s lotus-face, like the sun, nourishes all with the rays of her grace, bestowing life itself. Before that splendor, millions of suns and moons appear pale. [2]
Śrī Nandanandan gazes fixedly, longing to receive the merciful glance from Śrī Rādhā’s lotus-face, and, drenched in love, continuously repeats her holy name. [3]
He whose glories are sung by the Vedas and who cannot be grasped even in the meditation of sages — that very Śrī Kṛṣṇa becomes bound in Śrī Rādhā’s bond of love and ever offers Himself completely into her prema. [4]
Roop Ke Sarovar Mein Ali Kumudaavali Hain,
Laal Hain Chakor Tahaan Radha Mukh Chand Hain. [1]
Chhavi Ki Mareechin Saun Seenchat Hai Nis Din,
Koti-Koti Ravi-Sasi Laagain Ati Mand Hain. [2]
Ik Tak Rahain Mukh Naam Sukh Lahain Phir,
Kripa Drishti Chahain Sukh Roop Nand-Nand Hain. [3]
Jaakaun Ved Gaavain Muni Dhyan Hoon Na Paavain,
Tai Tau Bali-Bali Jaavain Hit Phanse Prem Phand Hain. [4]
- Shri Chandralal Goswami, Bhavna Pachisi
Gosvāmī Candralāl Jī says: In that divine lake of beauty (rūpa), the sakhīs are like buds of white lotuses, Śrī Kṛṣṇa is like the cakora bird, and Śrī Rādhā’s lotus-face is like the moon. Beholding it and drinking its nectar of rasa, Śrī Kṛṣṇa lives sustained. [1]
The incomparable radiance of Śrī Rādhā’s lotus-face, like the sun, nourishes all with the rays of her grace, bestowing life itself. Before that splendor, millions of suns and moons appear pale. [2]
Śrī Nandanandan gazes fixedly, longing to receive the merciful glance from Śrī Rādhā’s lotus-face, and, drenched in love, continuously repeats her holy name. [3]
He whose glories are sung by the Vedas and who cannot be grasped even in the meditation of sages — that very Śrī Kṛṣṇa becomes bound in Śrī Rādhā’s bond of love and ever offers Himself completely into her prema. [4]