Radha Instructs Ila - in the Arts of Love

This is a translation of a poem in Telugu, by a female poetess Muddupalani. It is not a Gaudiya text but it is very beautiful. Mahaprabhu relished texts from many sources, so I felt that the dear, dear rasika vaisnavas here could enjoy this text.

Not for the faint of heart. This poem is full of that burning poison which is also nectar. Jaya Sri Radhe.





[Radha has dressed up the young bride, while Krishna waits in the bedroom.]

"How will the lips of this young girl
suffer His bites? He is the killer of the demon Kaitabha.
How will her breasts bear his clawing? He's a lion of a cowherd.
Can her tender thighs take His vigor? He wrestled Canura to the death.
Will her smooth body survive? He's an elephant-killer."

All the women were joking like this, and Ila bowed her head
in shyness, her face all red. Radhika drew close to her
and offered comfort:

"When your husband holds you,
push Him gently with your breasts.
If He kisses your cheek, touch His lips with yours.
When He gets on top of you, move against Him from below.
If He gets tired while making love, quickly take over
and get on top. He's the best lover, a real connaisseur,
extremely delicate. Love Him skillfully,
and make Him love you. that's my advice.
But you know best.

Love has its own laws." And She taught her.
Then She said, "Go quickly. The good hour
is passing. Meet your lover. Don't delay"
And She led her gently to Krishna, and said to Him:

"Her breasts are tender as young buds. Unlike mine,
they won't hold up if you claw at them.
Her lips are like leaves. Mine are full-blown coral.
Don't bite too hard.
My thighs are used to wrestling with You,
but hers are soft as bananas.
Her whole body is a fragile vine. Mine is tough
as gold. In a word, she's not me.
Not equal to You in love.
Innocent, new to the art.
You have to know how to handle her.
But then, do you need me to tell You?
You're good with women.

Just touch her lips with the tip of Your tongue.
Don't squeeze.
Kiss her cheeks lightly.
Don't scratch.
Caress her nipples with Your fingertips.
Don't crush.
Make love very, very gently.
Don't be wild.
I must be crazy to talk like this.
When you and she are deeply in it,
wrestling with each other,
these rules of mine won't hold."



Then She handed Ila over to Krishna.
But really, She wanted to come, too,
and held on to Ila's sari. Ila loosened Her fingers:
"I'll be back soon," she said.
And Radha went, Her mind a jumble
of misery and joy.

Lying on Her bed, alone, She thought to Herself:

"You can give money.
You can give away your own family.
You can give your very life, that isn't easy to give up.
But to give your own husband
to another woman- what woman can do that?

By now I'm sure she's sucking His delicious lips.
Or already pounding His naked chest with Her breasts.
Probably moaning like doves.
He's on top of her, and she's pressing against Him.
She's quite skilled to begin with. Maybe a bit shy,
but by now He's won her over, freed her
from any reticence. He's brought her close,
touched her everywhere. Taught her everything."

She kept thinking. Tortured by love,
she couldn't close Her eyes.
Inside, She was burning.
As for Krishna, He was busy
with the girl.

This is a translation of a poem in Telugu, by a female poetess Muddupalani. It is not a Gaudiya text but it is very beautiful. Mahaprabhu relished texts from many sources, so I felt that the dear, dear rasika vaisnavas here could enjoy this text.

Not for the faint of heart. This poem is full of that burning poison which is also nectar. Jaya Sri Radhe.





[Radha has dressed up the young bride, while Krishna waits in the bedroom.]

"How will the lips of this young girl
suffer His bites? He is the killer of the demon Kaitabha.
How will her breasts bear his clawing? He's a lion of a cowherd.
Can her tender thighs take His vigor? He wrestled Canura to the death.
Will her smooth body survive? He's an elephant-killer."

All the women were joking like this, and Ila bowed her head
in shyness, her face all red. Radhika drew close to her
and offered comfort:

"When your husband holds you,
push Him gently with your breasts.
If He kisses your cheek, touch His lips with yours.
When He gets on top of you, move against Him from below.
If He gets tired while making love, quickly take over
and get on top. He's the best lover, a real connaisseur,
extremely delicate. Love Him skillfully,
and make Him love you. that's my advice.
But you know best.

Love has its own laws." And She taught her.
Then She said, "Go quickly. The good hour
is passing. Meet your lover. Don't delay"
And She led her gently to Krishna, and said to Him:

"Her breasts are tender as young buds. Unlike mine,
they won't hold up if you claw at them.
Her lips are like leaves. Mine are full-blown coral.
Don't bite too hard.
My thighs are used to wrestling with You,
but hers are soft as bananas.
Her whole body is a fragile vine. Mine is tough
as gold. In a word, she's not me.
Not equal to You in love.
Innocent, new to the art.
You have to know how to handle her.
But then, do you need me to tell You?
You're good with women.

Just touch her lips with the tip of Your tongue.
Don't squeeze.
Kiss her cheeks lightly.
Don't scratch.
Caress her nipples with Your fingertips.
Don't crush.
Make love very, very gently.
Don't be wild.
I must be crazy to talk like this.
When you and she are deeply in it,
wrestling with each other,
these rules of mine won't hold."



Then She handed Ila over to Krishna.
But really, She wanted to come, too,
and held on to Ila's sari. Ila loosened Her fingers:
"I'll be back soon," she said.
And Radha went, Her mind a jumble
of misery and joy.

Lying on Her bed, alone, She thought to Herself:

"You can give money.
You can give away your own family.
You can give your very life, that isn't easy to give up.
But to give your own husband
to another woman- what woman can do that?

By now I'm sure she's sucking His delicious lips.
Or already pounding His naked chest with Her breasts.
Probably moaning like doves.
He's on top of her, and she's pressing against Him.
She's quite skilled to begin with. Maybe a bit shy,
but by now He's won her over, freed her
from any reticence. He's brought her close,
touched her everywhere. Taught her everything."

She kept thinking. Tortured by love,
she couldn't close Her eyes.
Inside, She was burning.
As for Krishna, He was busy
with the girl.

This is a translation of a poem in Telugu, by a female poetess Muddupalani. It is not a Gaudiya text but it is very beautiful. Mahaprabhu relished texts from many sources, so I felt that the dear, dear rasika vaisnavas here could enjoy this text.

Not for the faint of heart. This poem is full of that burning poison which is also nectar. Jaya Sri Radhe.





[Radha has dressed up the young bride, while Krishna waits in the bedroom.]

"How will the lips of this young girl
suffer His bites? He is the killer of the demon Kaitabha.
How will her breasts bear his clawing? He's a lion of a cowherd.
Can her tender thighs take His vigor? He wrestled Canura to the death.
Will her smooth body survive? He's an elephant-killer."

All the women were joking like this, and Ila bowed her head
in shyness, her face all red. Radhika drew close to her
and offered comfort:

"When your husband holds you,
push Him gently with your breasts.
If He kisses your cheek, touch His lips with yours.
When He gets on top of you, move against Him from below.
If He gets tired while making love, quickly take over
and get on top. He's the best lover, a real connaisseur,
extremely delicate. Love Him skillfully,
and make Him love you. that's my advice.
But you know best.

Love has its own laws." And She taught her.
Then She said, "Go quickly. The good hour
is passing. Meet your lover. Don't delay"
And She led her gently to Krishna, and said to Him:

"Her breasts are tender as young buds. Unlike mine,
they won't hold up if you claw at them.
Her lips are like leaves. Mine are full-blown coral.
Don't bite too hard.
My thighs are used to wrestling with You,
but hers are soft as bananas.
Her whole body is a fragile vine. Mine is tough
as gold. In a word, she's not me.
Not equal to You in love.
Innocent, new to the art.
You have to know how to handle her.
But then, do you need me to tell You?
You're good with women.

Just touch her lips with the tip of Your tongue.
Don't squeeze.
Kiss her cheeks lightly.
Don't scratch.
Caress her nipples with Your fingertips.
Don't crush.
Make love very, very gently.
Don't be wild.
I must be crazy to talk like this.
When you and she are deeply in it,
wrestling with each other,
these rules of mine won't hold."



Then She handed Ila over to Krishna.
But really, She wanted to come, too,
and held on to Ila's sari. Ila loosened Her fingers:
"I'll be back soon," she said.
And Radha went, Her mind a jumble
of misery and joy.

Lying on Her bed, alone, She thought to Herself:

"You can give money.
You can give away your own family.
You can give your very life, that isn't easy to give up.
But to give your own husband
to another woman- what woman can do that?

By now I'm sure she's sucking His delicious lips.
Or already pounding His naked chest with Her breasts.
Probably moaning like doves.
He's on top of her, and she's pressing against Him.
She's quite skilled to begin with. Maybe a bit shy,
but by now He's won her over, freed her
from any reticence. He's brought her close,
touched her everywhere. Taught her everything."

She kept thinking. Tortured by love,
she couldn't close Her eyes.
Inside, She was burning.
As for Krishna, He was busy
with the girl.