krishna - Popular Poems and stories from category

Mother, the moon I want as my toy
I will roll on the floor,
Not come to your lap,
Nor have my hair-braid combed

O Krishna, darling of Gokula, awakeI have brought you milk, curd and sugar-candy come and partake of these delicacies: your pals are at the door, calling you to play; the sun has risen and it's time to go to the woods
Hearing her words Krishn...

Thick overhead clouds of the monsoon,a delight to this feverish heart
Season of rain,season of uncontrolled whispers—-the Dark One's returning
O swollen heart,
O sky brimming with moisture—-tongued lightning firstand then thunder,co...

Kanha, don't go so far to play,you do not know the 'hau' is here,
I've learnt of it boy came running just nowI saw him crying away,the 'hau' clips the ears awayof little boys let us be up and goneto near our place of stay,
Sur,
Shya...

O mother mine,
Dau (Balram)forever teases never gave birth to me,and I was bought in the is what he tells meo mother mihne,
Dau forever teases up of his teasing ways,
I don't go out to is your mother

Kanha
Two steps at a time,
Yasoda's desires
Fulfilment sublime

O mother mine,
I did not eat the buttercome dawn, with the herds,you send me to the jungle,o, mother mine,
I did not eat the day long with my flute in the junglesat dusk do I return a child, younger than my friendshow could I reach up to...

Mohan's begun to say 'Maiya Maiya,'And 'Baba Baba' to Nanda,
Balaram He's calling 'baiya'From atop the house Yasoda
Taking the name of kanhaiya
Don't go far to play my

Mother, when will my hair-braid grow
milk you said will make it grow,but still it remains so short
Mother when will my hair-braid growyou said like Bal it would be strong,his braid has grown fat and long,combing , braiding, bathing, dryi...

Mohan comes herding the cows,crown of peacock feathers on his head,garland of forest flowers on his chest,in his hand a wooden staff,his body wrapped in cow-dust
A band around his waistand from his feet the sound of ankletsthere amidst his co...

Thus did Radha and Krishna feel in their hearts the transports of first love
Their eyes spoke to each other the language of deep love and there was no need for words
Their love of several lifetimes which lay buried deep manifested itself...

Hands stretched out hesitantly,
A foot on the ground unstably,
Yasoda, teaching the Lord to walk
Sometimes watching His adorable