Verse 16

¹⁶With the petals of his own lotus feet, strange with the marks of flag and thunderbolt and lotus and goad, he quiets the ground of Vraja where the hooves have cut it; his walk is a broad-bodied leader's walk, and his flute is praised. ¹⁷As he goes by, the rush of love his playing glance has set in us brings us to stand like trees, and in that faintness we do not know our braid from our clothes. ¹⁸Sometimes he wears the jewel and counts the cows over with a garland of tulasi whose scent is dear to him, and at times throws his arm across the shoulder of some loving companion; and where he sang — ¹⁹then the does, wives of the black buck, their minds beguiled by the sounding of the flute, sat down beside Krsna. They had followed him who is a sea of every good quality, and like the cowherd women they let go their hope of home.