News from Vraj

(759)  Vrajer se din haraiya geche

The days of Vraj are gone;
Vraj Gopal^[1] renounced his home.
The sweetness of Vraj has been spread;
Around the whole world light was shed...
Light was shed, yes, light was shed.

At Vraj, the wives don't light their lamps at dusk,
And in the season of monsoons, the niip flowers never bloom.
At Vraj, the women, a red bindi,
They don't put on; rather, they weep silently...
Bereft of speech, indeed, bereft of speech.

At Vraj, the boys don't play their games;
And the milch cows take no grass in their mouths.
Timid does, on their eyes no longer falls
Bewitching lampblack full of ambrosia.

The milkmaids are no longer churning curd;
Ever they seek the butter-thief.^[2]
Today, around their waists they wrap no ornamental girdle;
Instead, they only beat their heads.

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