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She is the sprouting beauty of desire’s tree, a wave of youth’s nectar-ocean, a jewel-like glow of grace and mind’s seduction.
Her brows bend like a bow, glances become arrows, and my heart is the hunted deer—her body is a battlefield of love.
As I approach, the compassionate dusk (or beloved) rebukes the breeze for shaking her blooming tresses, refusing its approach.
This is the same Kalindi (Yamuna), once adored by Krishna and gopis, filled with sweet lotus beauty and youthful joy.
This fickle-eyed girl, once the jewel of three worlds, now burns with jealousy and wrath, confused by disguise and betrayal.
Her beautiful eyes, adorned with lotus-like charm, outshine the moon—she has turned the spotless into stained through sheer grace.
This passionate river (woman) shall not be met again; carry in your heart her twin charm-filled pitchers as you voyage forward.
With charming dress and balanced beauty, she appears like a vision placing divine pitchers upon her head—she arrests the world’s attention.
Created by the lotus-born god, she’s bathed daily in beauty’s nectar. Sudden bodily signs—goosebumps and flush—foretell blooming love.
Is she Lakshmi, wife of Vishnu? A Yaksha’s daughter? Or forest goddess? Or perhaps Parvati herself—her beauty confuses the seer.
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