Title - Parvai Ondre Podume
Just one mischievous glance from Krishna’s eyes is more than
enough for me.
So what if these two celestial treasures of the conch and
the lotus
were forcefully given to me; I would still treasure a single glance
from Krishna’s eyes more.
With a face (and dark curls) like a dense black cloud and
eyes so
luminous that they make one wonder if they are the sun and moon.
Will you not open those oceans that are your dark eyes just
a bit
and shower a deluge of your compassion so that it warms the
depths of my soul?
Should I describe the time when little Krishna went beside
his
mother Yashoda and stole butter from right under her nose?
Or should I describe when Krishna, having stolen
the butter,
embraced his mother from behind, and pleaded with his eyes with
me to not tell her about it?