He placed His red lips to His flute
filling its holes with tender fingers
Village people, their minds fixed
His sweet pastimes they remember

Animals stop moving as if sleeping
enchanted by flute songs grace
Steady lightning on His face
a smile like a jeweled necklace

Cows wandering on a yonder mountain side
they hear the sound of His flute
All the trees and creepers feeling joy inside
spring forth flowers and fruit

They do not pray for diamonds or rubies or gold
They just want to remember the pastimes of the Lord

Maddening aroma, sweet like honey
from His garland of jasmine flowers
For His pleasure all the bees sing loudly
of their enchanters magical powers

Acclaiming their song gratefully
He plays his flute to repay
as all of Vraja listens lovingly
He steals their hearts away

Stunned in ecstasy feeling so happy
Yamuna river stops flowing
She requests the wind for some mercy,
dust from His feet glowing

They do not pray for diamonds or rubies or gold
They just want to remember the pastimes of the Lord

The mighty storm cloud is afraid of offending
so he stays overhead and shades like an umbrella
Sending showers of flowers pleasingly
he gently produces sounds of thunder

Kind Mother Earth she is a crying
pained by cows hard hooves
Through her forest He is strolling
all her sufferings removed

He plays his flute to call His cows and friends
Vraja’s people are waiting
Counting His cows on a string of gems
in the west the sun is setting

They do not pray for diamonds or rubies or gold
They just want to remember the pastimes of the Lord