on her bouncing midriff, as if she were the staff of Kama’s fly-whisk—when she made love to you in the male position?*
With your eyes you touch your ears ⋮ surpass Kama; you have made three folds on your belly ⋮ triply surpassed Bali; thus you surpass everyone in generosity. But, you shapely girl, you are embarrassed to offer your body ⋮ even a little!*
Eager for special love-play—being abused, kicked, and pulled by the hair—he never taught his woman the moral lesson that a husband is a woman’s guru.
He came from behind when I was not watching my rear and ravished me, unable even to tolerate my undergarment, so I was like a beggar cheated by a cowry shell when he has failed to check its back.*
One leg bent at the knee, one thigh slightly turned and raised, covering half the other thigh, her navel becoming visible every time her stomach rises in rhythm with her breathing—this is the way that a lovely girl sleeps.*
90
By accepting large bribes to give your clothing to her, you lucky man, over a few days the washerwoman made the innocent girl moneyless!
Stop! It will be better if this areca palm is barren; don’t cause it pregnancy longings! For know that nothing but betel nuts ⋮ trouble will result from its bearing fruit.*
When the gods undertook the churning of the ocean by taking a serpent into their hands, relying on a fork-tongued person, it was a fitting result that only lethal poison was produced.*
I remember her lying there: her body languid from making love, her hair disheveled, her garments undone, one arm resting on her breasts that heaved to her breathing.*
You shapely girl, this mango shoot, dark reddish in color, has come out of the bud; it looks like the head of a young turtle peeping out of its shell.*
95
Curved at the top, of many fine qualities, long, and granting delight, the eye of my beloved attracts my mind like a fishing-line catching a fish in the lake: it has a hook at the end, and many strings, is long, and offers a tasty bait.*
Blather on all you like, it’s what is to be expected of you. But why bother to lie, you scoundrel? My friend is a disgrace to womankind, that she still craves to live, you lucky man.*
Knife coated with honey! Out of delusion I tasted you and, alas, when I had experienced the sweetness of your sur- face ⋮ mouth I found out how well you know to cut one’s tongue!*
Fortunate girl, what lucky man can take hold of your arm, that is slender as a lotus fiber, its bracelet broken by tugging, naturally tender, as if taking possession of the kingdom of Kama, its army shattered by magical attraction spells, with its refined subjects?
You have climbed up high, disregarding the oppressive heat, and are displaying yourself; you captivate me, just as a sail that takes the wind moves a ship along, you lovely girl.
100
Your wages, hound of the hunter, are exhaustion and doing injury to others; this deer will now be distributed among others and you will be driven away!*
This deer here, pretending to let itself be caught, leads the young traveler to the girl guarding the field, because it is eager to eat the tender ears of the kalama rice.*
While he was in love, he did not say anything, even when I hit him; but now, due to his cruel nature, he says harsh things, my female friend!—like a kettle drum that while in a wet condition makes no sound when struck, but in its dried-up state utters loud noises.
Carrying out her orders, and enduring her whipping and insult, I am truthfully hers; but she is not pleasant in her conduct, and knows to say unpleasant things.
When the milkmaid had pulled the churning stick in the vessel of milk so much that her tender arms were exhausted and yet she did not obtain the Parijata tree, she put the blame on the Creator.*
105
There was no tantrum, nor any talk among her friends about my misconduct that (surely) deserved censure; even in front of me the beautiful girl was ashamed, since she had lost confidence in her ability to make love properly.*
The river produces a welcoming whitewash with its whirl-pools white with foam, and sings a song with its mur-muring waves to celebrate the union with its lover.
This your sleepiness during the day that prevents you from getting up and does not let your eyes stay open—we do not know what it is going to tell about you, like a co-wife who deprives one of on exalted position and frown angrily—what will she speak to you!
That body of the young woman, with the single, bud-like breast around both sides of which the string of her necklace clings, is eagerly employed by Kama like a cata-pult.*
Clinging to the top of the tree here, with its body slightly shaking in play—to that monkey, look! The bird wants to fly, mistaking it for a nest.
110
Sugar-cane, the flow of a river, gambling, your resorting to anger, my beautiful one, and this line of your eyebrows: produces abundant juice when pressed out, becomes more impetuous when dammed, makes one more addicted after a loss, releases heightened passion when abandoned, and is particularly charming when curved.*
You move about in front of him who is like the moon with your face turned away and covered by a veil. Tell me, friend, what evil did you do, as if you were its shadow that faces away from it, conceals itself, and moves?*
Why do you trust here, deer, that woman with flickering eyes that express false affection? This hunter’s wife, all shaking with excitement, is interested only in your tail!*
This “earth” ⋮ ample woman displays here great pride over her size ⋮ touchiness and pride, having the cosmic ocean as her ornament ⋮ being decorated with an ocean of great beauty ; but of the god in the form of the Tortoise ⋮ but of her husband, were he in the form of a tortoise she does not even fill the whole back not to speak of his heart.*
The thought of her making love to her own husband makes me flare up in jealous anger. But what cools me down is the intense bliss of imagining her clothes slipping off her thighs!*
115
Bee! Why are you drawn in vain to this bud ⋮ girl, making the mistake of thinking that it ⋮ she is fit for you, since Shiva likes it ⋮ a great master has accepted her? It is but the bud of the thorn-apple ⋮ she is but a young cheat, without juice ⋮ love and has a golden nature merely by name ⋮ her wealth is merely that she is called “golden.”*
With a little bit of coolness ⋮ innocence left in it ⋮ her, after the winter has all but passed away, the pond, like a girl of fresh youth, is frequented often and for a long time by limbs.*
Which great people, however firm they may be, have not been made to tremble, girl of radiant body, by your large eye that is flirtatious with its bow of the eyebrows! ⋮ Which mountains, however great, did king Prithu, who was displaying a bow curved like eyebrows, not cause to shake when he looked at the earth?
Let there be honor, my friend, to the buttock-like Mandara mountain, by placing around whose slopes the serpent, the gods obtained superior treasures.*
The moon is shining forth,
