Originally Written By Srila Jiva Gosvami
Translated By Jagannath Swami
May this poem composed by my soul infused heart become a garden
of devotional creepers in which Lord Gopala can find much spiritual pleasure.
If the denizens of the Vaikuntha planets, and the many maintainers of
the cosmic manifestation never tire of singing the glories of Godhead,
and never run out of things to say about how He killed the demons,
then why should I even bother to commit my minute thoughts to writing?
Though this poem may sound like any other foolish poem
written by proud scholar poets,
I nonetheless feel a great need to write.
Your pastimes ignites the fire of devotion within every devotee,
and Your descent has been the cause of thousands of written scriptures.
Your consciousness, which is solely focused on virtue,
has no match because there are no real competitors.
Brilliant like the king of sapphires, You dress in a way
that is most captivating to the soul's spiritual senses.
Your qualities delight my ears as they enter my heart,
and Your charm is matched by Your opulent display of kingly jewels.
Victorious over those who attempt to challenge You to a dual of life and death,
Your glories satisfies the world's desire for peace and harmony.
Your names, even when briefly chanted, are great bringers of joy,
and Your sweet flute music enchants every moving and non moving entity.
A great nectar moon arising out of the ocean of pride exhibited by Your father,
You choose to liberate those who deserve something worse than hell.
Like the Sun which penetrates the eyes of those who stare into
its effulgence, You come to this world to spread Your sweetness.
O Lord who sits, as if entranced, by the wishes of Your devotees,
You are a fragrant love garden who smiles at those who fear cosmic death.
May my heart belong to You who are at the top of the list of handsome men,
and who is the master of all opulences. Your power being limitless,
You check the pride of the demons by playfully destroying them
with the notes of love pouring through Your most favorite of flutes.
The primeval guardian of the Vrindavana forests,
Your looks are drunk by all who live there.
Returning with Your cows and associates with a slight tinge of arrogance,
everyone who sees You stares at Your beauty for eternities that seems as if mere seconds.
Always capable and eager to satisfy the parts and parcels affectionately
named as Your relatives, Your birthday is celebrated with more pomp
than what is characteristic of all the denizens of heaven.
Those who visit You shower You with gifts of a devotional nature.
Deciding to make Putana, or a neophyte illusionist, into Your mother,
Your soft feet kicked apart the cart of the merchants' greediness for material profits.
Garga Muni revealing Your name to the world,
You bought fruit from the vendor not with golden coins but with golden words.
Providing Sukadeva Gosvami with the Bhagavatam to narrate day after day
in total bliss and loving affection, You are embraced by Your friends
and by Your first personal expansion as Baladeva.
Outwitting Lord Brahma when He stole Your cows,
You created millions of new cows so that the residents of
Vrindavana would not have to worry.
Becoming each and every cow and each and every
cowherd boy, You proved Yourself to be the Omnipotent Creator
to all of the lesser creators filled with pride over creating some form of life.
Bound to Yasoda's rope at the waist, You rescue everyone
from taking a lower birth among the inactive or non moving forms of life.
Without ever becoming tired, You provide everyone with joy
as You wander throughout the villages and forests of Vraja.
Your birth in this world gives birth to eternal happiness,
and Your opulent nature only doubles the opulences of the devotees.
Making Vraja into an ocean of love, this old man has new hope in the wonders of bhakti.
Living within the glories of Your forest abode,
You busy Yourself by endlessly joking with all of Your transcendental friends.
Your pastimes are a mine of happiness for those who know how to extract
the ecstasy of prema from Your lotus like heart.
O eternal form of eternal bliss!
Places such as Govardhana hill and the Yamuna river brings us
under an eternal spell of blissfulness that is as attractive as You are.
Playing with Your calves,
demons attack You left and right,
yet not one of them has been able to swallow You completely,
or bring You down to their level since they do not possess transcendental intelligence.
May my mind be attracted to Your pastimes
which are the exact opposite of some hellish, bland, and bleak void
or pointless eternity. Impressing Your friends by making
Your opponents into pure and sinless souls,
it is with great wonder that I write these words.
Tricking the most intelligent entity of the universe,
Lord Brahma cannot understand even one spark of Your divine creativity.
Your thoughts being objects of supreme mercy,
You attract Your followers to You by displaying Your illusory potencies.
Though treating Your friends with total disrespect,
You nonetheless awarded Him with Vraja bhakti,
thus showing how You are ever prepared to be kind and forgiving.
Covered with the dust of the material creation raised
by the ecstatic fury of Your devotees,
the way You walk is the most graceful sight that has struck my eyes.
Praying like the sages do, may You gladly jump into that poisoned river
and jump and dance on that serpent's head which is filled with false ego
and the desire to lord it over the material nature.
Protecting Your calves by simply associating with them,
crush the serpent of wicked materialism
by continuing to dance on all that is black within the hearts of conditioned souls.
Playing with friends and demons alike,
when all of the poison dissipated,
the universe released a sigh of transcendental relief.
Shining with the splendor of millions of universes,
You send into exile all criminal like minds poisoned by
the snake like venom of maya's followers.
Transforming a once barren creation into a bountiful one,
everyone lives in Vraja without any worries or cares
because of Your efforts to save souls from the serpent of illusion.
Extinguishing the fires that burn trees, bellies, hearts and minds,
whenever we look at You, Your presence showers us with pure nectar mellows.
An infinite well of auspiciousness, and the
protector of jewel producing cows, all glories to You.
Delighting every gopi's eyes, You increase in
personal beauty with each passing year in eternity.
Dancing with everyone, wrestling with the impurities of the universe,
imitating the play of cows and horses and frogs,
You mercifully breathe in the flames which consumes piety and impiety.
Impressing Your friends by overpowering the forest fire that tried
to stop Your pleasure pastimes from occurring,
You are as charming as the spring season.
The personification of the laid back nature of summer,
You are also the wetness of the monsoon season.
Limitless in Your playful autumn nature,
You are as enduring as the winter.
Your entrancing music drives every jiva into pure madness.
Again and again playing on Your flute,
Your teachings are enough to make any conscious
or unconscious person tremble with transcendental love.
Stopping everyone from worshiping the demigods,
You circumambulate Govardhana hill only to please Your devotees,
and actually became that hill to shelter more and more persons
from the continuous down pourings of the savageness of nature.
Neutralizing the sins of everyone by lifting darkness above
the world's worries, You are the one who awards liberation to the demigods.
A wish fulfilling cow blessing You with infinite life,
the most offensive bow down before You.
Bathed by the demigods filled with nectar,
Your transcendental nature is most obvious to all.
Anointed by pure love, You rescued Your father when kidnapped
by the king of the underworld or the king of mundane pleasure.
Taking Your father's illusions away when taking Him out of
the impersonalism of the brahmajyoti,
You are the maintainer of every other maintainer.
Having red lotus eyes due to crying all the time,
You show those favorable towards You their own promised abode of devotional service.
Stealing the gopis' garments as You have stolen their hearts,
they managed to keep fresh garlands which covered Your entire body
throughout the harsh winter season. More great than the immovable Sun,
You paint pictures of love everywhere.
Removing the masks of so called devotees who were really demoniac within,
illusion and the illusioned run away from You when seeing Your smiling face.
Your voice resembling the thundering of clouds,
You beautified an entire forest just by looking at it as Your pleasure playground.
Glistening with thousands of lakes upon Your eternal form,
You forget where You live when You are absorbed in Your divine lilas.
Your sweet temperament charms every goddess to the extent
that they fall out of their flower airplanes while sneaking a peek at You.
Enjoying limitless pleasures by visiting holy men and places,
You are the holi festival and are the moment of separation
that is most sweetly experienced by the most saintly gopis.
The greatest in all regards, Your musical dancing
makes every kirtan into a place of pilgrimage.
Glorified all throughout the earth,
Lord Gopala is the destiny beyond all sufferings,
and is an ocean of transcendental splendor.
Appearing with Your flute, Your devotees are
never separate from You even when they are miles apart.
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