[...] I shy from him when we meet; he coaxes me with flattering words. I smile at him tenderly as he loosens the silken cloth on my hips. I fall on the bed of tender ferns; he lies on my breasts forever. I embrace him, kiss him; he clings to me drinking my lips. Jewel anklets ring at my feet as he reaches the height of passion. My belt falls noisily; he draws back my hair to kiss me.The enchanting flute in his hand Lies fallen under coy glances; Sweat of love wets his cheeks; His bewildered face is smiling My heart values his vulgar ways

Love Song of the Dark Lord: Jayadeva's Gitagovinda, Translated by Barbara Stoler Miller