Thirsting for fragrance I flew to the flower

Rādhā:
Thirsting for fragrance I flew to the flower
But never I came the near,
I saw not a drop of the ocean of honey,
And now the people mock me.

And lo, my dear, the bee bewitched by someone else
And no one passes any judgment thereupon:
By little steps I came to understand him better,
How is his heart as fickle as the lightning.

Forsaking the lily, he followed the screw-pine,
Inhaling its fragrance:
But the thorns have pierced his body
His face is smeared with dust.

Somewhat hurt, I think, he comes again to me,
As though he had been disappointed:
There is one flavour men have never understood--
Distinction of the good and bad.

Hearken, my good girl, says Vidyāpati;
Love is only understood by lovers,--
Rājā Shivasimha is the storehouse of all virtues.
And Rānī Lakshmī Devī his wife!