Songs of Radha: Sarojini Naidu

1:
Songs of Radha
By Sarojini Naidu
AT D AWN
All night my heart its lonely vigil kept
Listening for thee, O Love. All night I wept.
Where went thy wanton footsteps wandering,
Sweet Ghanashyam, my King?
My bridal veils are flung upon the floor,
My bridal garlands drop across the door.
The buds that on my bed their fragrance spilt,
Grief-scattered, wane and wilt.
O Flute-player, how quickly dost thou tire
Of thine own gladness and thine own desire!
Couldst thou not find upon my sheltering breast
Thy rapture and thy rest?
Whose are the fingers that like amorous flocks
Raid the ambrosial thickets of thy locks?
Ah, whose the lips that smite with sudden drouth
The garden of thy mouth?
What shall it profit to revile or hate
Thy fickleness, her beauty or my fate,
Or strive to tear with black and bitter art
Thine image from my heart?
2:
Without thy loveliness my life is dead,
Love, like a lamp with golden oils unfed.
Come back; come back from thy wild wandering.
Sweet Ghanashyam, my King!
AT Dusk
Krishna Murari, my radiant lover
Cometh O comrades haste.
Bring me rich perfumes my limbs to cover.
Saffron and sandal paste.
Bring shining garments for my adorning,
Blue of the dusk and rose of the morning.
Gold of the flaming noon.
Bring me a breast band of gems that shimmer,
Making the lamps of the stars grow dimmer,
Fillets and fringes of pearls whose glimmer
Shameth the Shravan moon.
Krishna Murari, my radiant lover
Cometh, O sisters spread
Buds and ripe blossoms his couch to cover,
Silver and vermeil red.
With flowering branches the doorways darken,
Is that his flute call? Sisters hearken!
Why tarrieth he so long?
O like a leaf doth my shy heart shiver,
O Like a wave do my faint limbs quiver.
3:
Softly, softly, Jamuna river,
Sing thou our bridal song.
THE QUEST
My foolish love went seeking thee at dawn,
Crying O wind where is Kanhaya gone?
I questioned at noonrise the forest glade,
Rests my sweet lover in thy friendly shade?
At dusk I pleaded with the dovegray tides,
O tell me where my Flute-player abides?
Dumb were the waters, dumb the woods, the wind,
They knew not where my playfellow to find.
I bowed my weeping face upon my palm,
Moaning O where art thou, my Ghanashyam?
Then, like a boat that rocks from keel to rafter,
My heart was shaken by thy hidden laughter.
Then didst thou mock me with thy tender malice,
Like nectar bubbling from my own heart's chalice.
Thou saidst, O faithless one, self-slain with doubt,
Why seekest thou my loveliness without,
And askest wind or wave or flowering dell
The secret that within thyself doth dwell?
I am of thee, as thou of me, a part.
Look for me in the mirror of thy heart.
4:
Goodbye Party for Miss Pushpa T.S.
Friends,
our dear sister
is departing for foreign
in two three days,
and
we are meeting today
to wish her bon voyage.
You are all knowing, friends,
What sweetness is in Miss Pushpa.
I don't mean only external sweetness
but internal sweetness.
Miss Pushpa is smiling and smiling
even for no reason but simply because
she is feeling.
Miss Pushpa is coming
from very high family.
Her father was renowned advocate
in Bulsar or Surat,
I am not remembering now which place.
Surat? Ah, yes,
once only I stayed in Surat
with family members
of my uncle's very old friendhis wife was cooking nicely
5:
that was long time ago.
Coming back to Miss Pushpa
she is most popular lady
with men also and ladies also.
Whenever I asked her to do anything,
she was saying, 'Just now only
I will do it.' That is showing
good spirit. I am always
appreciating the good spirit.
Pushpa Miss is never saying no.
Whatever I or anybody is asking
she is always saying yes,
and today she is going
to improve her prospect
and we are wishing her bon voyage.
Now I ask other speakers to speak
and afterwards Miss Pushpa
will do summing up.
By Nissim Ezekiel
SONG OF RADHA MILKMAID
I carried my curds to the Mathura fair
How softly the heifers were lowing
I wanted to cry, Who will buy
6:
These curds that are white as the clouds in the sky
When the breezes of shrawan are blowing?
But my heart was so full of your beauty, Beloved,
They laughed as I cried without knowing:
Govinda! Govinda !Govinda! Govinda!
How softly the river was flowing!
I carried my pots to the Mathura tide
How gaily the rowers were rowing!
My comrades called, Ho! let us dance, let us sing
And wear saffron garments to welcome the spring.
And pluck the new buds that are blowing.
But my heart was so full of your music, Beloved,
They mocked when I cried without knowing:

Govinda! Govinda!
Govinda! Govinda!
How gaily the river was flowing!
I carried my gifts to the Mathura shrine
How brightly the torches were glowing!
I folded my hands at the altars to pray
O shining ones guard us by night and by day
And loudly the conch shells were blowing.
7:
But my heart was so lost in your worship, Beloved,
They were wroth when I cried without knowing:
Govinda! Govinda!
Govinda! Govinda!
How brightly the river was flowing!
Song of Radha, the Milkmaid, by Sarojini Naidu.

I carried my curds to the Mathura fair
How softly the heifers were lowing
I wanted to cry, Who will buy
The curds that is white as the clouds in the sky
When the breezes of Shravan are blowing?
But my heart was so full of your beauty, Beloved,
They laughed as I cried without knowing:
Govinda! Govinda!
Govinda! Govinda!
How softly the river was flowing!
I carried the pots to the Mathura tide
How gaily the rowers were rowing!
My comrades called, Ho! Let us dance, let us sing
And wear saffron garments to welcome the spring.
And pluck the new buds that are blowing.
But my heart was so full of your music, Beloved,
They mocked when I cried without knowing:
Govinda! Govinda!
Govinda! Govinda!
How gaily the river was flowing!
I carried my gifts to the Mathura shrine
How brightly the torches were glowing!
I folded my hands at the altars to pray
O shining ones guard us by night and by dayAnd loudly the conch shells were blowing.
8:
But my heart was so lost in your worship, Beloved,
They were wroth when I cried without knowing:
Govinda! Govinda!
Govinda! Govinda!
How bright the river was flowing!
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9:
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10:
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They mocked when I cried without knowing:

Song of Radha, the Milkmaid, by Sarojini Naidu.

Expected No. Of Qns.

Expected No. Of Qns.

Permutation, Combination & Probability

Sequence & Series

Ratio & Proportion, Percentage & Averages

Profit & Loss

Work & Time

Time & Distance

Mixtures & Alligations

Simple Interest & Compound Interest & Surds & Indices

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