Bhamini Prccha Na Varam Varam
Bhajan | Rupa Goswami
Verse 1
bhāmini pṛccha na vāraḿ vāram
hanta vimuhyati vīkṣya mano mama ballava-rāja-kumāram
Verse 2
kuṭilaḿ mām avalokya navāmbujam upari cucumba sa rańgī
tena haṭhād aham abhavaḿ vepathu-maṇḍala-sañcalad-ańgī
Verse 3
dāḍima-latikām anu nistala-phala-namitāḿ sa dadhe hastam
tad-anubhavān mama dharmojjvalam api dhairya-dhanaḿ gatam astam
Verse 4
adaśad aśoka-latā-pallavam ayam atanu-sanātana-narmā
tad aham avekṣya babhūva ciraḿ bata vismṛta-kāyika-karmā
Verse 1
O impassioned one, do not ask me again and again -- alas, my mind grows utterly bewildered on seeing the prince of the cowherd king.
Verse 2
Glancing at me sideways, that playful one suddenly kissed a fresh lotus above me; because of that, I was forcibly overcome, my whole body trembling and shaking.
Verse 3
He placed his hand upon a pomegranate creeper bent low with heavy fruit; from the feeling that gave me, even my bright virtue and the wealth of my composure went utterly to ruin.
Verse 4
He bit a tender shoot of the ashoka vine, this one whose playful jesting is eternal as Cupid himself; seeing that, alas, I remained for a long while utterly forgetful of all bodily activity.
Verse 1
bhāmini pṛccha na vāraḿ vāram
hanta vimuhyati vīkṣya mano mama ballava-rāja-kumāram
Verse 2
kuṭilaḿ mām avalokya navāmbujam upari cucumba sa rańgī
tena haṭhād aham abhavaḿ vepathu-maṇḍala-sañcalad-ańgī
Verse 3
dāḍima-latikām anu nistala-phala-namitāḿ sa dadhe hastam
tad-anubhavān mama dharmojjvalam api dhairya-dhanaḿ gatam astam
Verse 4
adaśad aśoka-latā-pallavam ayam atanu-sanātana-narmā
tad aham avekṣya babhūva ciraḿ bata vismṛta-kāyika-karmā
Verse 1
O impassioned one, do not ask me again and again -- alas, my mind grows utterly bewildered on seeing the prince of the cowherd king.
Verse 2
Glancing at me sideways, that playful one suddenly kissed a fresh lotus above me; because of that, I was forcibly overcome, my whole body trembling and shaking.
Verse 3
He placed his hand upon a pomegranate creeper bent low with heavy fruit; from the feeling that gave me, even my bright virtue and the wealth of my composure went utterly to ruin.
Verse 4
He bit a tender shoot of the ashoka vine, this one whose playful jesting is eternal as Cupid himself; seeing that, alas, I remained for a long while utterly forgetful of all bodily activity.
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