Krishna you don’t know me… I live here around the corner, in a hut, a poor woman, Krishna, you don’t know me.. Here, in Ambadi, around the corner, in a hut, a poor woman, you don’t know me.. Not a single day, I came to you, pretends to carry water in a glittery pot on my waist, with pletes of the colorful skirt making my anklet noisy, with affection in my eyes…Krihsna you don’t know me.. In the chilly waves of naughty kalindi, I have never asked for my cloths with my shivering hands, with half folded eyes in shyness…Krihsna you don’t know me.. In the midst of the forest under the bamboo tree while you play your flute, I have never come forgetting the spilling milk in the boiling pot, the household chores, opened hair, cloths that is coming off, crying child, angry husband, I have never come near you, forgetting everything else.. Krihsna you don’t know me.. As the noice of their anklets fades, I return to my small hut keep myslef busy in hundred thousand chores and where I leash life.. when you stand in the middle like a blue moon when the beautiful gopis dance around you in a flow when your naughty and smooth flute heightens its rythm when the anklets twitters, fights and scatters when the rain bow hovers over the pleats of the skirts, beautiful body, hands decorated with bangles I have never danced there with my open hair or broken garland Krishnaaa you don’t know me.. when your body sweats after a tiring dance when you lean on a tree with puffed chest I have never looked at your face with longing Krishna, you don’t know me.. a clever friend of mine never aproached you to tell my desire for you when flowers bloom in the forest I have never waited to hear your foot steps Krihsna, you don’t know me.. when the intoxicating fragrance of hundreds of jungle flowers flow in the chilly moonlight I have never leaned on that blue broad chest Krishna, you don’t know me.. come like the spring come like the spring let your flute melt in me like the spring I closed my hut and shed tears of happiness without anyone’s notice, I absorbed you in my soul Krishna, you don’t know me Gokulam is weeping.. Gokulam is weeping.. They say you are going to Mathura in order to bring you, they say the cruel Akroora has reached with flower chariot While I was sitting silently in my frontyard sound of chariot wheel with gallopping noise sound of chariot wheel with gallopping noise as I look up you glow like a full moon in the decorated chariot decorated like a king gopikas were weeping cows were following you in distress with red teary eyes you were looking back at them I stood like a stone idol without talking, crying or moving though you don’t know me Krishna, your chariot paused in front of my hut for a second the eyes filled with tears approached me tired but compassionate noble smile, you gifted me Krishna, do you know me..Krisha, do you know me..do you know me..
Posted on: Mon, 18 Aug 2014 06:49:21 +0000
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