Speak to me, speak to me, dear, and tell me, O tell me

Rādhā:
Speak to me, speak to me, dear, and tell me, O tell me,
Where is the land where my darling dwells?
For Madan's burning arrows, my body is ablaze
To hear some news of him.

What like is she my Lord has met,
That he is so enamoured?
Some maid he must have found, my Lord is glad.
And plunges in my heart an arrow.

Shatter my bangles of shell, take off my fine array,
And break my necklace of ivory-pearls,--
If my dear will forsake me, what is the use of jewels?
Cast them all in the waves of the Jamunā.

Wipe from my hair the scarlet line and put it far away.
All is hopeless without my darling.
Vidyāpati says: Hearken young damsel:
Your sorrow is come to an end.