They alone are capable of accomplishing the encylopedia of arts and skills and of displaying all segments of the moon, the lotuses’ friend: the king who is the crest-jewel of the Sena lineage and the early morning of a full-moon day.
xl
If their syllables are harmonious ⋮ if they show enduring friendship, if they are not harsh, if they are not uncouth, words of poetry, just like men, effectively indicate their meaning.
A blemish will not enter the heart of the good, suffused with sentiment, just as a woodworm will not enter a bamboo. But a fault-finder will not welcome even aesthetic delight, just as a man whose humors are morbidly deranged will refuse to accept even water.*
Even a poem of no merit is delightful if it is on the lips of the good; even a blowing sound captivates the ear if it is modulated by a good flute.
Even though it is itself filled with holes ⋮ failings, and shakes from side to side ⋮ is fickle to everyone, the sieve, jealous of the grain, has been appointed to separate ⋮ discern the chaff.
The water ⋮ poetic sentiment of a poem or a river brings no joy to connoisseurs of rasa if it lacks clarity, and fails to reveal the things or meanings contained within it.
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Inaccessible to the stupid ⋮ wicked; comparable to nectar ⋮ pervaded by immortality; composed of euphonies ⋮ made of gold etc.; dealing with emotional themes ⋮ containing the crowds of gods; poetry or heaven, we realize them to be alike.*
Satisfied by the cooked rice of words, from which the true poet’s tongue has winnowed the chaff, a man would not care even for the lower lip of his beloved. What nectar is a servant girl?
An elegant poem, with exquisite amorous sentiment, gives as much pleasure as a woman rushing to an assignation, even though it contains no rhetorical ornaments of sound ⋮ she pays no heed to the tinkling of her ornaments, even though it is bluntly to the point ⋮ she is doing her lover’s bidding, even though the meter is uneven ⋮ her footsteps are faltering.
Neither the poem nor the anklet gives delight either to the heart or to the ear, in the congregation of the learned and at the time of making love, if it contains no suggestion ⋮ does not make a noise and is merely out to string words together ⋮ clings lifelessly to the ankle.*
Poems are sweet only for the man who has tasted the nectarlike juices of his beloved’s lip: the cuckoo who has not picked at the buds of the mango cannot sing pleasantly.*
l
The girl’s side-long glance has given the gist; the commentary has been supplied by the wanton woman’s furtive glance; the go-between has explained; the boy-poet studies the purport ⋮ learns about love.
Go·vardhana’s clear verses ⋮ fair noble ladies deploy smooth expressions and style ⋮ walk with smooth gait and soft tread to the hearts of good men ⋮ keep trysts with their noble lovers, are full of sentiment, are esoteric texts on the unity of love ⋮ keep close in the unity of love-making.
Speech with the poetic sentiments associated with Prakrit ⋮ that has sentiments relished by vulgar people has been by great effort turned into Sanskrit ⋮ brought to the sophisticated man as by Bala·rama the Yamuna river whose water was flowing downwards was raised to the sky.*
The arrogant persons who scorn this “Seven Hundred of Elegant Verses” will never enter the heart of the beloved, just like those who have no go-between.
Just as one’s beloved, though naked, when in the course of making love she has shed all her clothes, grants pleasure when filled with passion, so speech, though plain, causes delight, if full of sentiment; when void of emotion, though filled with figures of speech, it will not give enjoyment, like a wooden doll, even if it is ornamented.
G
irl guarding the well! Do cover up your breasts— those mountains that block the road—that are impossible to by-pass. Give the travelers’ wives a chance to survive, for their lives will last no longer than the date fixed for the return.*
When the young co-wife began to develop breasts, the lady of the house suddenly became extremely affectionate towards their husband, pleasant, meticulous about serving him, in harmony with his ideas, and very polite.
Be loud and noisy with your waves, those scoundrels that uprooted the nichula bushes on your bank! Kaveri! In no time you will be no more than mud that even the storks spit out!
Hey you! You string so many fine words together. You bring the moon and place it in one’s hand; but on the days of trouble, messenger woman, where are you to be seen?
5
Let her be depressed, let people gossip about her symptoms, let her luster disappear! Even so, she does not give you up, as the moon does not discard the shadow of the earth, though it may wane, people ridicule its haremark, and its light fades.
You are brutally cruel, entering into her heart and causing havoc; you make her, who is so well-behaved, speak out [in anger]. You are like a clapper of very hard wood, fixed inside and creating instability, that causes a wellrounded bell to peal.
The flow of love between two young khanjana birds merely dissolves in their limbs, but no sexual intercourse takes place on ground in which no treasure has been buried.*
The Creator, who dwells in the navel as dear friend of Shri and Keshava, turns blind when he is not supposed to be looking, and deaf when the occasion demands discre- tion.*
Silk-worm! You let your threads come out in front of forest-dwellers. It is lucky for you that they do not rip your stomach open to investigate.*
10
Her love for you has no concern for respectability, flouts her elders, has no desire for money, is not in the interest of her child, is simply asking for infamy, and disregards her very survival.*
More than your offense itself it is your stringing these false words together that causes me pain; to be stabbed by a weapon is not as painful as the prick of a needle.*
That mysterious something going on in the mind of the frivolous woman, which is reflected in the mirror of her eyes, as if shrouded in darkness cannot be discerned even by the eye of Sarasvati, as if she had cataract.*
What would be wicked words in the mouths of others is just joking in the mouth of one’s husband: what is smoke when it comes from other fuels is incense when born from the aloe.*
Hey you lucky man! Frenzied in excitement, roaming in pursuit of fragrance, that wretched girl has fallen into you, to become totally infatuated, like a bee into a poison flower, where it loses consciousness.
15
Hey you foolish man! The tusked elephants have been dis- persed by their mere fear of an elephant in rut, so only the inferior beasts without tusks are enjoying the fe- males.
The wife whose body has become dwarf-like from all her polite bending, does not even step outside the threshold; but the arbor of kusumbha knows of her daring.*
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