Though Rādhā and Krishna had awoken, They remained lying on the flower bed in a tight embrace. They were disturbed over the end of night, and did not want to rise from the attractive pleasure bed. Rādhikā lay with Her hips confined by Krishna’s knees, Her breasts upon His chest and Her face caressing His. Rādhā’s arms, wrapped around Krishna’s neck, served as a pillow.
Rādhā, though fully conscious, could not move an inch[1].
The parrot Dakṣa, an expert in narrating Krishna’s pastimes and the teacher of countless other parrots, entered the flower grove. Spreading his wings in bliss, he said,
“Look, Krishna! The sun has risen. The cakravākī[2] glances toward the reddish eastern sky and then eagerly toward her distant husband[3].
In fear of the crows, the owls silently enter the hollows of trees. Please immediately give up Your sleep[4].
“O ocean of good qualities! Beloved of Rādhā! O sun that makes the lotuses of Vraja bloom! O jeweled mountain peak of artistic genius! All glory to You! O master, what are You contemplating as You lie in the kuñja, even though the night has ended? Though You know it is time for Your family to rise, why do You prefer to sleep in the grove?[5]
“The peacocks, aware of the time, have awoken and are now piteously crying “kekā kekā” in separation from their mates! They have come just to wake You up. Would any intelligent person neglect the prescribed time for his duties?[6]”
[1] Govinda-līlāmṛta 1.38-39
[2] Female heron
[3] These birds separate at night and reunite at sunrise.
[4] Govinda-līlāmṛta 1.31-32
[5] Kṛṣṇāhnika-kaumudī 1.19
[6] Kṛṣṇāhnika-kaumudī 1.24
This is a section of the book “Vrindavana Lila”.
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