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316
THE INDIAN ANTIQUARY.
IV.
Asoj sa lagi rahi, Sakhi ri; &jhú nâ âye Har Khrishna.
Tulsi ki mâlâ leke hâth men, Râm Râm ratna ratnâ.
Girdhar, bansi baji, &c.
V.
Katik karm-bhag mere chûke nahin mile Nand ke lala.
Girdhar, bansi baji, &c. VIII. Moh mahinâ man merâ aṭkâ: Har darshan ki hon piyasi.
Afrût apnå sir mort; ajhun na âe Birj-basi. Girdhar, bansi baji, &c.
Mukat ki latak mere man bas gai; ri Mohan- The brilliancy of his crown has filled my heart; oh the Mohan necklace!
mâlâ !
Girdhar, thy lute sounded, &c.
IX. Phagan phâg khel Man Mohan: 'abîr, gull, ude roli;
Kesar rang ki kich bahi hai; lipat jhapat khelen
Holi.
Girdhar, bansi baji, &c. VI. Manghur mång bhari naksak se, sab ze war mera sone ka.
Ajhan na âe. Kin barmãe? Barâ andêsha hai pl ka.
Girdhar, bansi baji, &c.
VII.
Poh piya mad mâti dolen, jûn Sawan ki hai In December my love is filled with pride, like the bijli. lightning of July.
Palpal bars para; pal bite; jan bite, jan jan sahâye.
The separation of a year has passed; I suffer the separation; as I suffer, so my life passes. Girdhar, thy lute sounded, &c.
Girdhar, bansi baji, &c.
X. Chet mahina at mohe chinta lagi; bhâl ghar nå sajhe.
Prân pati piyâre, Man Mohan, bila darshan kof na puchhe.
Girdhar, bansi baji, &c. XI.
Baisakh mahina sab sakhi milkar, Dewal pajan men jâti.
Shâm mile to sab dukh bichhen, sital ho meri
chhâti
[OCTOBER, 1907.
IV.
September has commenced, O Sakhi; Har Khrishna has not yet come.
I take my tulsi garland in my hand to repeat the name of R&m again and again. Girdhar, thy lute sounded, &c.
Girdhar, bansi bajt, &c. XII. Jeth mahinâ tapei deotâ bich Puhâr Kushâvarti. Sanvri Sakhi par kirpå kijio; An milen Mathrâ
bâsi.
V.
In October my heart grieves that I have not met the son of Nand.
VI.
In November I have braided my hair, and put on all my golden jewels.
Yet he comes not. Who has deceived him? Great is the anxiety in my heart. Girdhar, thy lute sounded, &c. VII.
VIII.
In January my heart is in love: I am athirst for a sight of Har.
The spring is set; yet the dweller in Brij comes
not.
Girdhar, thy lute sounded, &c.
IX.
In February Man Mohan has come to play: abir,1 gulâl and rolí3 are used;
Saffron has fallen lavishly; leaping and dancing they play at the Holi.
Girdhar, thy lute sounded, &c.
X.
In March my heart is grieved; pleasure comes not to my house.
The master of my life, Man Mohan, has not asked to see me.
Girdhar, thy lute sounded, &c.
XI.
In April all my companions go together to the Diwali festival.
If I meet Shâm, all my trouble is eased and peace enters my breast.
Girdhar, thy lute sounded, &c.
XII.
In May the gods do penance on Kushâvarti Hill. Do Sanvri Sakht a favour that she may meet the dweller in Mathrâ.
Girdhar, thy lute sounded, &c.
Girdhar, bansi baji, &c.
1 The red powder thrown by the people on one another at the Holt.
2 A mixture of rice, turmeric and alum with aoid used to paint the forehead.
Saffron ambergris.
