Krishna went playing in the lanes of Braj,
a yellow silk garment round his waist,
holding a top and a string to spin it with,
a crown of peacock-feathers adorning his head
Mother, the moon I want as my toy.
I will roll on the floor,
Not come to your lap,
Nor have my hair-braid combed.
Yashoda was enraptured to see his face blooming as a lotus that captures the rising sun's first rays. Taking off the coverlet she said, 'awake, darling boy, awake, your loveliness makes me swoon your bewitching face is like the full moon seen through the sea's foam when it was churned for nectar.'
Mohan comes herding the cows,
crown of peacock feathers on his head,
garland of forest flowers on his chest,
in his hand a wooden staff,
Awake, O Krishna awake,
the night has gone arise,
no longer laze breathe the pure air of early morn;
the cowherd-lads come and gaze at you,
See the greatness of Krishna;
though Lord, Father and Master of the world
he willingly bears the arrogance of his close devotees
Shiva and Brahma were roaring mad
Chuckling, Kanha came crawling,
Trying to catch His reflection
In the bejewelled courtyard of Nanda.
One moment He would stare at His shadow
Mother, when will my hair-braid grow?
milk you said will make it grow,
but still it remains so short.
Mother when will my hair-braid grow
Who can contain his joy, say, on seeing the lotus-like lovely face of Nanda's darling child when he awakes?
His beauty infatuates sages,and destroys the pride of Kama, it captivates the hearts of hundreds of young girls. When he softly smiles the gleam of his teeth seems as though rubies have been stringed with pearls.