Eyes full, with a saturnine glance,
Radha stared at the starlit sky.
Even the Yamuna seemed halcyon,
Flowing without a gurgle or sigh.

The imprints on the sands, spoke of the times,
When Madhav had Radha with him.
Always playing up to her pranks,
But ensuring, she succumb to his whim.

She remembered his graceful walk,
Waving his flute like a magic wand.
Tenderness filled his lotus eyes,
Whenever he held her outstretched hand.

Even the moon would tauntingly smile,
Whenever he called her name.
But those days seem lost forever,
When he had staged his cosmic game.

When the flute touched his curvaceous lips,
A magic wave of melody would be cast.
Radha’s eyes brimmed as she thought,
Of the loving lost days of the past.

Her mind flooded, with his thoughts,
She waited with a heavy heart.
For the Lord had promised to take her leave,
Only then would he depart.

Came The Lord without much gusto,
Wearing an indifferent gaze.
Her body trembled, her voice sank,
As despair writhed her face.

As she faltered, the handsome charmer,
Held her in his arms aloft.
You are the Goddess of beauty and joy,
He murmured in a voice silky and soft.

My flute I leave as a parting gift,
To restore Dharma, I have to leave.
Beloved Radha, You shall merge in me,
Sob not and do not grieve.

So saying departed the cowherd prince,
Leaving Radha moved and strained.
Little could be done, for the divine decree,
For that’s what The Lord had ordained.