When the rains pour, they say your name,
With every droplet admiring your beauty.
Birds sing the praise of your soft touch,
When you caress their feathers in the garden.
Even flowers sway in the wind gently,
Expressing your affirmative gesture for our sweet love.
With every droplet admiring your beauty.
Birds sing the praise of your soft touch,
When you caress their feathers in the garden.
Even flowers sway in the wind gently,
Expressing your affirmative gesture for our sweet love.
Literature does not have enough expressive words,
To reveal your gentle love for me.
Nor there are words in poems to express,
Your exquisite and gentle voice,
Especially when you call my name with love,
Sounding like a cuckoo singing its favorite tune.
Flowers go frenzy, even the fragrant ones,
When you bring your aura of pleasantness near them,
Making flowers to doubt, whether their own scent,
Is good enough to suit the stature of your kind.
Your beauty makes the heaven spellbound,
Especially when you wink your eyes,
Mischievously at me, when I call your name.
O Radha!

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