Without Krsna is this bower of neep.
Having lost its beauty and become speechless,
On a bed of dust the karanja weeps.
Grass renounced and face raised, Braj milchcows see not the view;
Though all ears, they don't hear anybody's bamboo flute.
Peacocks no longer dance, the pied cuckoos[1] don't gauge water;
Wagtail birds have become gimpy.
Flow of the Jamuna, no more upstream does it hie;
With hue, the kingfisher and carambola do not entice the mind.
The frog along with moorhen, they don't invite rainfall's advent;
On the sky accumulation of dark cloud is not there.
Sarkarverse article
Audio recording
Everybody misses You... do You ever get nostalgic too?
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