A sorry end to all my love, my dear

Rādhā:
A sorry end to all my love, my dear,
To let my life depend upon a wanton,--
Nowhere to look for help!

I could not see the hidden well,
But as I ran, I fell therein:
At first I nowise knew the heavy from the light,--
Now would I might return!

His honey-speech I understood for love,
At first I knew no better:
I yielded all my skill into another's hands,
Pride had fled afar my heart.

Till now I led another way of life,
But now I know what drowning is:
I with my own hands sharped the stake,
Whom can I blame now?

Hearken, fair young thing says Vidyāpati:
No other thought be in your heart!
Oft is life lost for sake of love,
Who does not know this in the world?