Verse 12

⁷Friends, we know no other fruit for those who have eyes than this: the faces of the two sons of the lord of Vraja as they bring the animals in with their companions, faces set to the flute, drunk down by those eyes, and loosing loving looks from the side. ⁸With mango shoots and peacock feathers, clusters of blossom and garlands of lotuses caught into their clothes, in dress of a strange kind, the two stood out in the middle of the cowherd company like two fine actors on a stage, singing now and then. ⁹Cowherd women, what good did this flute ever do? It drinks for itself the nectar of Damodara's lip, which belongs to us, and leaves the mere taste behind. The rivers thrill in their skin, and the trees let their tears fall, like elders of a house.

¹⁰Vrndavana, friend, spreads the fame of the earth, since it has come by the good fortune of the lotus feet of Devaki's son. The peacocks dance, out of themselves, after Govinda's flute, and on the hill slopes every other creature has stopped still to watch. ¹¹Fortunate are these does, dull of mind as they are, who hear the note of the flute of Nanda's son in his strange dress and, with their black bucks beside them, give him a worship made out of loving looks. ¹²The goddesses going by in their sky-chariots see Krsna, whose looks and ways are a festival for women, and hear that wondrous song of the flute he sounds, and desire takes their strength; the flowers fall out of their hair, their skirts come loose, and they faint.