
By Kalakantha dasa
After You steal butter, Your earrings dance and shine
as You flee Your mother in Gokula pastimes.
Though you are all blissful, all knowing, ever-new
Greatest of controllers, Your mother controls You.
She shows You the stick and she binds You by the waist.
As You rub Your frightened eyes, tears roll down Your face.
Sobbing and quick breaths make Your necklace of pearls shake.
Ropes of her love bind You in Your mother’s embrace.
Relishing Your childhood activities like this,
Yo

