Verse 7

¹Twenty thousand eight hundred of them, beaten in battle and then shut up, came out from the mountain valley, filthy and in filthy clothes. ²Wasted with hunger, their faces dry, worn thin by their confinement, they saw him: dark as a rain cloud, dressed in yellow silk, ³marked with the Srivatsa, four-armed, his eyes red as the heart of a lotus, his face lovely and clear, his fish-shaped earrings flashing, ⁴a lotus in his hand, known by his mace and his conch and his wheel, set off by crown and necklace, by bracelets and waistband and armlets, ⁵a fine jewel shining at his throat, a garland of the woods hanging on him. As though they were drinking him with their eyes, as though they were licking him with their tongues,

⁶as though they were smelling him with their noses, as though they were holding him with their arms, they bowed their heads at Hari's feet, and what was wrong in them was destroyed. ⁷The weariness of their imprisonment was thrown off by the gladness of seeing Krsna, and with folded hands the kings praised the lord of the senses in these words: