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The beloved rests in a golden chamber — fortune's lap. There, love games or anger both are blessings, for that home is adorned with supreme joy and pr...
Spring has arrived like Hanuman to the love-lorn eyes of Sita, with fragrant pollen kissed by desert winds and the cheerful moon leading the way.
Even in the dark lunar phase, Shiva, the moon-crested, though seated far away, immerses himself in luminous twilight with his beloveds — transcending ...
The sky-wind, perfumed with scent of great elephants and cool river froth, sips the salty sweat from your youthful face — a sensual ode to beauty and ...
He is as grand as Indra's mountain or the ocean’s lord. So mighty are his armies that even Indra seems to march before him, as if retreating.
Even a beautiful poetic composition is unworthy if born from hatred. Let no poetic ornamentation justify or cleanse venomous intentions.
The learned child, emerging with a face like the autumn moon, captures fluttering glances of ladies, making windows bloom like blue lotuses.
He boldly seeks supreme joy and stabilizes Mukunda (Krishna) in his heart. What higher raft exists to cross the ocean of rebirth and sorrow?
The moon rises from the eastern hill like a lion emerging from the forest, its rays scattering clearly while it captures the still deer of night.
The crescent moon sinks, leaving a trail of darkness like a forest elephant's tusk left protruding from deep waters — a vivid closing of night.
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