Śrīmatī Rādhārāṇī Navaratna
Nine Jewels for our Revered Queen Rādhā
(1) Praise Rādhā, rustic Queen, the Gopi Goddess of Vrindāvan—
Thou by Whose simple loving pastimes paradise is blest!
While basking in Thy smile’s light my heart as ghee doth soften
To offer with the milk of pure devotion in my breast.
(2) Thy golden skin’s a nectar stream in which my heart’s awash;
My thoughts drown in the blue waves of Thy sārī’s dancing flutter.
With praying hands I clasp Thy lotus feet so to massage;
I bathe my head within their dust as pure as Gaṅgā’s water.
(3) Untiring with chāmara the yak tail fan white-pure
Of breath in rhythmic mantra may I e’er be whisking
Away the flies of filthy buzzing hungers that obscure
The vision of Thy graceful form with handsome Kṛishṇa frisking.
(4) Like lamps of ārati are whirled in circling adoration
’Round Rādhā radiant my eyes ecstatically now roll.
Enraptured dance before Thee is my yogic meditation;
Releasing tears to wash Thy locks is moksha to my soul.
(5) My senses at Thy service are the five foods on Thine altar;
My thrumming thoughts I trumpet as Thy temple rite conch shell;
My sighs for Thee accept as songs from Six Goswāmīs’ psalter;
May tremors in my voice adorn Thee as an ankle bell.
(6) The blushing of my cheeks I put upon Thy hair for henna;
The apples of my eyes I fix to offer Thee as fruit.
My each hair standeth quivering, alert as an antenna
Receiving radio with Rādhā’s voice & Kṛishṇa’s flute.
(7) In fervent chanting of Thy charms my pores make drops of dew:
Pellucid pearls I dream-embroider in Thy silken gown.
When Rādhā’s day-gold skin is wrapped in Kṛishṇa’s skin night-blue
I drop into samādhi’s sleep, a superconscious swoon.
(8) Upon Thy lotus toe I fit my third eye chakra ring;
As belt around Thy trim waist is my creeper of devotion.
My upraised arms are ropes, O Rādhā, for Thy lovers’ swing—
Its seat within my heaving bosom pushed by pure emotion.
(9) I give my hands to serve as starry flowers for Thy tresses;
My lifeblood take for red lac rubbed upon Thy foot soles tender.
If Kṛishṇa’s fingers doff His flute to give Thy feet caresses,
To Mādhava’s belovèd mænad Queen I must surrender.
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