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I still recall her in the garden, hesitant due to others nearby, casting sideways glances at me, inwardly desiring union.
I remember her adorned with ornaments on both sides, wearing spring-like garments, her beauty outshining the full moon.
Even now I recall her lifting her breasts, revealing the triple folds at her navel and playfully exposing her navel to me.
Even now, I see her adjusting her upper cloth that slipped from her breast, smiling slightly, saying “why do you look like that?”
Even now, though people praise her maidenhood, it doesn’t please me; nor does she care for those unworthy of her.
My mind still rushes to that delightful house with her friends, watching her dancing in erotic games with me.
Even now the royal elephant is afraid to enter caves, though his female companions don’t fear—his pride and glory now gone.
Even now, her full-moon beauty would enchant even a sage. If I could kiss her nectar-like face forever, my mind would still ache.
Even now Shiva’s anger might be burning like a cosmic fire; how then are you, the cause of my ruin, still so unaffected?
Even now, Shiva swallows poison, the tortoise holds the Earth, and the ocean bears fire—noble beings bear burdens for others.
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