Śrī Kṛishṇāshṭakam
Octet to our Lord Kṛishṇa
(1) Hail Kṛishṇa, skin blue-black as lodestone, all-attractive Lord,
Of Whom the million milkmaids of Vrindāvan are enamored,
One Whom the sixteen thousand queens of Dvārakā adored;
For Whom we numberless devotees’ drums & chants have clamored!
(2) Thou cream of clan of Yadavas, the Vṛishṇis’ tallest poppy,
Eighth Incarnation of Nārāyaṇa the World’s Preserver!
Thine emanated Form hath made the Gopīs madly happy!
Thy saving grace doth fill devotees’ hearts with blissful fervor!
(3) Thou leanest on a tree, Thy body smeared with sandal paste
Is bending in three places, supple as a plantain stem.
Our dark tamāla tree of sins Thy pliant heart embraced
As close as Vasṭhā mark or calf carved on Kaustubha gem.
(4) As bright as summer sun in heavens vast to Thy devotee
Is silken saffron sash upon Thy sapphire blue breast.
Lord, pin us fast unto Thy chest just as Thy golden dhoti!
Keep us in mind, upon Thy brow like peacock feather crest!
(5) The spray of peacock plumes that wave within Thy swarthy curls
Which fringe Thy full-bloomed lotus face the shade of rain cloud blue,
We wave with lovesick sighs like barefoot dancing Gopi girls,
Sighs contrapuntal to Thy wooden flute’s warm sighs that woo.
(6) To spy Thy blurry dancing blue ’mid Vrāja’s sylvan verdure
With Rādhā’s arms around Thee like gold kritamala wreath,
With handmaid manjaris we would arrange Thy secret merger
And for Thy body’s bed lay our hearts’ lotuses beneath.
(7) To hear Thy flute accompanied by anklets jangling
And panting beat of Gopīs’ hearts as fierce as feet in dance,
With creepers of their arms around Thy torso tangling,
They fall like does before the arrow of Thy side-long glance.
(8) We cannot look at blue skies without scrying Thy blue skin;
We cannot hear wind sighing & not cry for Thy flute’s note!
We pray, come closer to us, Kṛishṇa, than our neck’s blue vein;
With our each exhalation make Thy music melilote.
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