that great light, enchanting,
the lovely hue of perfect gold,
which is that of the great sweetness
found in the drops that hold the unique seed
that contains all the different kinds of prema-rasa;
which then flow out from her every limb,
as oceans of the true ambrosia,
the playground for the astonishing, maddened erotic arts,
and which then flood the Vrindavan forest…
May that beloved of Shyamasundar
play within my heart.
pūrṇa-svarṇa-sugaura-mohana-mahā-jyotiḥ sudhaikāmbudhīn |
ekaikāṅgata unmada-smara-kalā-raṅgān duhanty adbhutān
vṛndā-kānana-saṁplavān hṛdi mama śyāma-priyā khelatu ||2.21||
Here Prabodhananda knocks one out of the park with a single compound word consisting of fifteen words, and that is naturally a bit of a puzzle to break down. We are looking at a “great effulgence” a brilliant light, mahā-jyotiḥ. What is this light? It is mohana, enchanting. How so? It is of a gentle golden color. What gives it that color? It is full of a great sweetness that comes from droplets that are full with seeds!
What kind of seeds are these? These are the only seeds that produce all the different rasas, that is to say, all the different kinds of love.
So the light that in the previous verses was establish as being in the center of Vrindavan Dham is now being further described. Its golden hue is like that of honey or mead, with the great sweetness that arises from atomic particles that are seeds of the relish of divine love.
After establishing the subject, he tells us the object “oceans of nothing but ambrosia” (sudhaikāmbudhīn). Perhaps it is the full moon of which we are hearing, which pulls on the ocean of nectar to cause the rising and falling of the tides. Or perhaps it is the moon that emits rays of amrita on the world and these rays fall on the sand, covering all with an ocean-like covering of silver light.
This moon “gushes forth” the oceans, which are amazing because they are full of the dalliances that come from the intoxicated expression of the arts of love (unmada-smara-kalā-raṅgān). And where does this flood of sweetness go? It inundates the forest of Vrinda. It permeates that forest for all eternity.
That moon is Shyamasundar’s beloved Radha, may her dance, may her movements, her features, her sidelong glances, her hāvas and bhāvas, all be visible to me. Let those rays of love penetrate to every corner of my heart. Let me too feel those waves of ecstasy that rise and fall with the lilas that the Divine Cupid makes you dance.