Kada Gosthe Gostha Ksitipa
Sri Abhista Prarthanastaka
kadā goṣṭhe goṣṭha-kṣitipa-gṛha-devyā kila tayā
sa-bāṣpaṁ kurvatyā vilasati sute lālana-vidhim
muhur dṛṣṭaṁ rohiṇy-apīhita-niveśām avanataṁ
niṣeve tāmbūlair aham api viśākhā-priya-sakhīm
Even though her eyes were filled with tears as she caressed her playful son, and even though Rohini largely blocked her view, Mother Yasoda carefully noted the entrance of Sri Radha. When will I humbly offer betelnuts to Visakha's friend, Sri Radha?
kadā gāndharvāyāṁ śuci viracayantyāṁ hari-kṛte
mudā hārān vṛndaiḥ saha sa-vayasām ātma-sadane
vicitya śrī-haste maṇim iha muhuḥ sampuṭa-cayād
aho vinyasyantī saphalayati seyaṁ bhuja-latām
When, again and again taking jewels from the boø and placing them in Sri Radha's hand as in Her home She and Her friends make necklaces for Lord Hari, will the vine of my hand bear fruit?
kadā līlā-rājye vraja-vipina-rūpe vijayinī
nijaṁ bhāgyaṁ sākṣād iha vidadhatī vallabhatayā
samantād krīḍantī pika-madhupa-mukhyābhir abhitaḥ
prajābhiḥ sañjuṣṭā pramadayati sā māṁ mad-adhipā
When will Sri Radha, my queen happily playing with the cuckoos, bees, and other citizens in Her pastime-kingdom of Vraja's forest, fill me with transcendental bliss?
kadā kṛṣṇā-tīre tri-catura-sakhībhiḥ samam aho
prasūnāṁ gumphantīṁ ravisakha-sutām ānatatayā
sametya pracchannaṁ sapadi pariripsor baka-ripor
niṣedhe bhrū-bhaṅgaṁ bhṛśam anubhaje 'ham vyajaninī
Stringing flower garlands with three or four friends by the Yamuna's shore, Radha bends down. Hiding Krsna suddenly approaches and earnestly tries to embrace Her. She resists, knitting Her eyebrows. When will I fan Sri Radha as She enjoys these pastimes?
kadā śubhre tasmin pulina-valaye rāsa-mahasā
suvarṇāggī-saṅgheṣṭ aham-ahamikā-matta-matiṣu
harau yāte nīlotpala-nikasatāṁ jitvara-guṇād
guṇād asmān divya-draviṇam iva rādhā madayati
In the splendid rasa dance arena on the sandy shore Lord Hari became a blue-lotus testing-stone to test the value of a host of golden-complexioned girls intoxicated with pride. When will Sri Radha, the greatest treasure among them, delight us all?
kadā bhāṇḍīrasya prathita-rucirotsaṅga-nilaye
varā-madhyāsīnaṁ kusumamaya-tūlīm atulitam priye
citraṁ patraṁ likhati nihita-svaṅga-latikāṁ
viśākhā-prāṇālīṁ bhajati diśatī varṇakam asau
When will this person draw a picture of Radha's beloved Krsna? When will this person give the picture to the flowering vine that is Visakha's dear friend Radha' as She sits with Her friends on thrones of flowers deep in beautiful Bhandiravana Forest? When will this person show that picture to Krsna?
kadā tuṅge tuṅge rahasi giri-śṛṅge vratatijān
priye pūrvā līlā nigamayati saṁstavya nilayān
madenāviṣpaṣṭaṁ sakalita-padaṁ vrīḍitatayā
drutam autkyenaiṣā viracayati pṛcchāṁ mama puraḥ
When in a solitary place at the top of a mountain will She point out the various cottages of flowering vines and recount the pastimes She enjoyed there? When, filled with happiness, embarassment, will She eagerly ask me a question in stuttering words?
gatir yan me nityā yad akhilam api svaṁ sa-vayasām
mad-īśvaryāḥ preṣṭha-praṇaya-kṛta-saubhāgya-varimā
harer yat prema-śrīr nivasatir amuṣyas tulanayā
sadā tasmin kuṇḍe lasatu lalitālī mama dṛśī
This lake is my eternal home. It is everything for Radha's friends. It is filled with the glory of Radha's love for Krsna. Krsna loves it as much as He loves Radha. I pray that at this lake Lalita's friend Radha may eternally enjoy pastimes before my eyes.
Translation
Even though her eyes were filled with tears as she caressed her playful son, and even though Rohini largely blocked her view, Mother Yasoda carefully noted the entrance of Sri Radha. When will I humbly offer betelnuts to Visakha's friend, Sri Radha?
When, again and again taking jewels from the boø and placing them in Sri Radha's hand as in Her home She and Her friends make necklaces for Lord Hari, will the vine of my hand bear fruit?
When will Sri Radha, my queen happily playing with the cuckoos, bees, and other citizens in Her pastime-kingdom of Vraja's forest, fill me with transcendental bliss?
Stringing flower garlands with three or four friends by the Yamuna's shore, Radha bends down. Hiding Krsna suddenly approaches and earnestly tries to embrace Her. She resists, knitting Her eyebrows. When will I fan Sri Radha as She enjoys these pastimes?
In the splendid rasa dance arena on the sandy shore Lord Hari became a blue-lotus testing-stone to test the value of a host of golden-complexioned girls intoxicated with pride. When will Sri Radha, the greatest treasure among them, delight us all?
When will this person draw a picture of Radha's beloved Krsna? When will this person give the picture to the flowering vine that is Visakha's dear friend Radha' as She sits with Her friends on thrones of flowers deep in beautiful Bhandiravana Forest? When will this person show that picture to Krsna?
When in a solitary place at the top of a mountain will She point out the various cottages of flowering vines and recount the pastimes She enjoyed there? When, filled with happiness, embarassment, will She eagerly ask me a question in stuttering words?