পাতা:Vanga Sahitya Parichaya Part 1.djvu/৫৮

এই পাতাটির মুদ্রণ সংশোধন করা প্রয়োজন।

INTRODUCTION. Though you walk faster than we, your chance of meeting Krisna is no greater. O Rādhā, the way is thorny, walk with care, lest the thorns pierce your tender feet. Venomous snakes in the way may bite you; and our tears have made the ground wet and slippery. Go not so fast, rest your arms on ours and walking slowly peer into the path. Rādhā–Little do I care for the thorns. When love dawned in my heart, I thought within myself what might I not have to do for his sake He is a cow-herd and the thorny snake-infested wood-land path and the muddy slippery ground would I have to tread with him. For, how could I rest at home when his flute gave the signal and called me! So in my court-yard did I pour out water to make it wet and learnt how to walk on slippery ground. On dark nights did I cover the paths with thorns, and learnt how best to tread the thorny wood-lands. From snakecharmers I learned charms to guard myself against the bites of snakes. O what did I not suffer for him 2 But all this has gone for nought, I see! They enter the bowers. Rādhā—Look at these groves, dear maids, deserted by Krisna, they have turned to wilderness. These groves were once renowned for beauty. The creepers with their foliage are withered, the flowers do not bloom, the dried leaves fall to the ground. It was Krisna that gave them his own loveliness and with him that is gone. Stop! The Bakulbower is here. Where are those creepers laden with flowers—the home of bees—which once resounded with the cuckoo's sweetest notes? Look there, the birds Sāri and Suka, mute with grief, sing no more. Grief-stricken stands the bower. Alas, to whom will I go for the tidings of my love | Here stands the Bata-tree, dear to the heart of Krisna. Men call it the flute-tree, for here he used to play on his flute. Ye, Tamāla, Săla, Hintāla, Dhaba, and Sinsapā trees, tell me where my love is gone. You dwellers of this shrine, surely you will help one suffering as I do. Ye Jasmine and Mālati, have you seen my love go by this way? What look like dew-drops