Evening Hymn to Krishna
Call on the Lord! Cows leave the byre
And milk pails foam. The sunset’s fire
Kindles the gopis’ wild desire
To feel they kiss, and thrum
Cymbals, and clash their bracelets bright,
Breaking the still air of the night
With lilting lyrics of delight,
Lord of the Milkmaids, come!
Come as of old, a laughing boy
To steal the butter or destroy
Demons! Now moinas shriek for joy,
The monkeys play and prance.
Cows call; our sleek calves moo for thee,
Krishna! Round thy Kadumbra tree
Maids, sick for love, are circling free
In mazy rasa dance.
Call on the Lord! In shouting bands
By Jumna stream we lift our hands.
May clouds rain flowers on the lands
Where once thy feet have trod!
Thy brides are yearning. Frolicsome,
Dancing, with beating on the drum,
And milkmaid songs, Shri Krishna! come
To flute gay souls to God.
Louis Esson, Bells and Bees: Verses, Melbourne: Thomas C. Lothian, 1910, [page 29]