Desire even now in my foolish mind for Krishna,
For Krishna--without me--lusting still for the herd-girls.
Seeing only the good in his nature, what shall I do?
Agitated I feel no anger. Pleased without cause, I acquit him.

And she continues:

O make him enjoy me, my friend, that Krishna so fickle,
I who am shy like a girl on her way to the first of her trysts of love,
He who is charming with flattering words, I who am tender
In speech and smiling, he on whose hip the garment lies loosely worn.

O make him enjoy me, my friend, that Krishna so fickle,
Me who sweated and moistened all over my body with love's exertion,
That Krishna whose cheeks were lovely with down all standing on end
as he thrilled,
Whose half-closed eyes were languid, and restless with brimming
desire.

O make him enjoy me, my friend, that Krishna so fickle,
Me whose masses of curls were like loose-slipping flowers, whose
amorous words
Were vague as of doves, that Krishna whose bosom is marked
With scratches, surpassing all in his love that the science of love
could teach.

O make him enjoy me, my friend, that Krishna so fickle,
To whose act of desire accomplished the anklets upon my feet bejewelled
Vibrated sounding, who gave his kisses seizing the hair of the head,