English narrations of Bhakti-treatises by Goswamis of Vrindavan

 

 

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This work was created by Sage Śrī-Līlā-Śuka, also known as Bilvamaṅgala-Ṭhākura Text 1* cintāmaṇir jayati somagirir gurur me śikṣā-guruś ca bhagavān śikhi-piñcha-mauliḥ | yat-pāda-kalpa-taru-pallava-śekhareṣu līlā-svayaṁvara-rasaṁ labhate jaya-śrīḥ ||1|| (vasanta-tilaka) All glories to Cintāmaṇi and my initiating spiritual master, Somagiri. All glories to my instructing spiritual master, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, who wears peacock feathers in His crown. Under the shade of His lotus feet, which are like desire trees, Jayaśrī (Rādhārāṇī) enjoys the transcendental mellow of an eternal consort. Text 2 asti svas-taruṇī-karāgra-vigalat-kalpa-prasūnāplutaṁ vastu prastuta-veṇu-nāda-laharī-nirvāṇa-nirvyākulam | srasta-srasta-niruddha-nīvi-vilasad-gopī-sahasrāvṛtaṁ hasta-nyasta-natāpavargam akhilodāraṁ kiśorākṛti ||2|| (śārdūla-vikrīḍita) There is an entity who has the appearance of an adolescent boy, and who is being inundated with desire-tree flowers falling from the fingertips of the damsels of heaven. That boy is completely carefree, situated in transcendental beatitude, as He sends forth waves of sound from His famed flute. He is encircled by thousands of effulgent milkmaids, whose garments are becoming loose again and again (from their extreme pleasure at hearing the flute) and who are trying to hold them up. That adolescent boy, the pinnacle of munificence, places liberation from birth and death into the hands of His surrendered devotees. Text 3 cāturyaika-nidāna-sīma-capalāpāṅga-cchaṭā-mantharaṁ lāvaṇyāmṛta-vīci-lolita-dṛśaṁ lakṣmī-kaṭākṣādṛtam | kālindī-pulināṅgana-praṇayinaṁ kāmāvatārāṅkuraṁ bālaṁ nīlam amī vayaṁ madhurima-svārājyam ārādhnumaḥ ||3|| (śārdūla-vikrīḍita) We worship that dark bluish young boy, in whom culminate the principal stimuli for amorous love, who causes Rādhā to become languid with the beauty of His dancing sidelong glances, and who in turn becomes languid with love when Śrī Rādhā and Her friends cast their sidelong glances at Him. That boy's beauty, like waves of nectar, engenders an extreme thirst in the eyes of Rādhā and Her companions, and, conversely, their nectarous beauty makes Him thirsty to see them. He is affectionately worshiped by Rādhā's wistful glances, and He enjoys loving pastimes with Rādhā and Her friends on the bank of the Yamunā. We worship that young bluish boy, the source of the god of love, who has attained unchallenged dominion over love's sweetness. Text 4 barhottaṁsa-vilāsa-kuntala-bharaṁ mādhurya-magnānanaṁ pronmīlan-nava-yauvanaṁ pravilasad-veṇu-praṇādāmṛtam | āpīna-stana-kuṭmalābhir abhito gopībhir ārādhitaṁ jyotiś cetasi naś cakāstu jagatām ekābhirāmādbhutam ||4|| (śārdūla-vikrīḍita) Let the effulgence personified (i.e., Kṛṣṇa) shine within our hearts. He is wearing a bright peacock plume on His head, His face is steeped in sweet beauty, His fresh youthfulness is bursting forth, and His flute is pouring out murmuring, nectarous sounds of rapture. On all sides the milkmaids of Vraja, who have blooming, budlike breasts, worship Him in adoration. Indeed, He is, amazingly, the only enjoyer and the only source of enjoyment in the entire universe. Text 5 Śrī Kṛṣṇa's eyes are long like petals of a blooming lotus, and His very charming lotus-like face is made all the more charming by His extremely beautiful and sweet, nectarous smiles. His profuse curling locks look delightful with their decoration of a proud peacock's tail-feather. Let Him, the embodiment of all effulgence, forever shine within my heart, which is (outwardly) greedy for the poisonous meat of sense objects, [or (inwardly) greedy for the beauty of Śrī Kṛṣṇa, a beauty that binds the devotee's mind and causes burning pain at the time of separation from Him.] Text 6 May the lotus of my Lord's face blossom within [the lake of] my mind. The eyes of that face resemble lotus buds, being half-closed, and the delicate mirror-like orbs of its cheeks are puffed with the nectarous honey of the flute-sound. Text 7 Let my words express even a tiny particle of a particle of a particle of the luscious beauty of Murāri, whose artless adolescent figure enraptures me, and whose moon-face is worshiped by the soft melodies of His flute. https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLcpngM5_RvfMSlPDfQv-4ZQkxpEMOxyki

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