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Milk-cows we would follow, reach the wood and eat,
Amongst tribe pastoral, sans any intellect, Thou'rt born
This the only virtue we own;
our acquaintance is a bond;
The intimacy hither, could never be torn;
Oh! Govinda! Deficient in
nothing!
We girls ignorant and forlorn
Addressed Thee in unbecoming
names;
Let Thou not hiss! Lo! Master!
Bless us, we in ardour
Bestow on us our desire,
Listen and consider, our damsel.
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Erelong dawn we have come unto Thee, to entreat-
All-hail, Thy foot lotus golden;
Thou shouldst hearken our
motive!
Born in a tribe to graze the pastoral and eat
Thou shalt not let go our
menial service depriv'd
Lo! Govinda! This day not the drum alone is gotten!
Forever seven and seven more
births
Related to Thy bond will we be near;
Only unto Thee, we serve sincere
Converse our passions to vanish;
Listen and consider, our damsel.
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Face a la
gracious moon, the precious jewell'd,
Entreating thence had obtained the desire
From Madhava Kesava
who churned the ocean wavy;
Whoever reminisces this legacy in thirty Tamil hymns
In commune, hither, in this
manner with out fail;
A lyrical wreath of Godai -Her sire
Bhattar Piran of Anipuduvai,
decorated with fine lotus 'n' glory crown'd;
Shall beget the blessings of wealthy Tirumal
Whose arm quadruplet, alike a mountain tall,
Eye bright aglow, with face gracious on call,
And shall remain delight'd, be wherev'r our damsel.
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