At the dawn of creation, there arose one whose brilliance outshone all others, a being whose very birth was marked by a dazzling radiance and extraordinary skill. Because of his remarkable deeds, he was called Dakṣa—the able one. He who is without beginning, the Supreme, appointed Dakṣa and others as the lords of all creatures, entrusting them with the creation and protection of living beings. Much later, in the sacred land of Vraja, the gopīs gathered and sang of their beloved Kṛṣṇa, whose birth had brought prosperity to their land. They spoke with longing and adoration: “Vraja flourishes more because of your presence; Lakṣmī herself abides here. Beloved, let your devotees be seen in every direction, for those whose very lives depend on you are ever searching for you. “O noble one, on these autumn nights, your gaze surpasses even the beauty found in the heart of a lotus. Lord of love, we are but your unpaid servants—giver of boons, is it right for you to abandon us and let us perish in longing? “Time and again, O Supreme One, you have protected us from poison in the waters, from a serpent-demon, from storms, lightning, fire, from the wrath of the rain-god’s son, and from countless dangers. You are not merely the delight of the gopīs; you are the inner witness dwelling in the hearts of all beings. At Brahmā’s request, you appeared in the Sātvata clan for the world’s protection. “O foremost of the Vṛṣṇis, your feet are a refuge for all who seek shelter, freeing them from the fear of worldly existence. Beloved, whose lotus hands grant all desires, place your auspicious hand upon our heads. “O hero, remover of Vraja’s suffering, your gentle smile humbles even your own people. Friend, accept us as your servants and show us your beautiful, lotus-like face. “Destroyer of sin for those who bow to you, companion of those who tend the cows, abode of fortune—your lotus feet were worshipped by the serpent’s hoods. Place them upon our breasts and relieve the pain in our hearts. “Your sweet speech, charming words, and wisdom delight the mind, O lotus-eyed one, and bewilder us. O hero, nourish us with the nectar of your lips. “The nectar of your stories brings life to the suffering, is praised by poets, removes all sin, and bestows auspiciousness and wealth. Those who spread your stories on earth are truly generous. “Your laughter, beloved, your loving glances, your playful ways, and your meditative presence are all auspicious. The secret conversations that touch our hearts, O enchanter, disturb our minds with longing. “When you wander from Vraja, herding the cows, O Lord, your lotus-like feet tread on stones, grass, and sprouts. Our minds, tormented by longing, follow you wherever you go. “At day’s end, with your blue hair and face adorned with forest flowers, dusted by the clouds, you appear again and again, O hero, stirring love ever deeper in our hearts. “Your lotus feet, which fulfill the wishes of those who bow, are worshipped by Lakṣmī, the ornament of the earth, worthy of meditation in adversity, and bring peace. Beloved, place them upon our breasts and soothe our pain. “Your lips, sweetened by the melodious flute, increase love and destroy sorrow, making us forget all other passions. O hero, grant us the nectar of your lips. “When you wander the forest by day, for those who cannot see you, a moment stretches into an age. Your curly hair and beautiful face are hidden from the gaze of those whose eyes are dulled by longing. “Having left behind husbands, sons, families, brothers, and kin, we, the last ones, have come to you, O infallible one. Knowing your path and enchanted by your song, what woman could return home at night? “The secret conversations, the rising of love within, your smiling face, loving glances, and the splendor of your broad chest, O abode of fortune, repeatedly bewilder our minds and fill us with longing. “O embodiment of auspiciousness for the people of Vraja, your presence alone destroys all suffering and brings universal blessing. Please, if you must, withdraw even slightly from those whose hearts are tormented by longing for you, for your absence alone can cure the pain of separation among your own. “O beloved, we gently place your beautiful lotus feet upon our breasts, though we fear their hardness. Is this why you wander the forest—do your feet not feel pain from the sharp stones? Our minds, sustained by your presence, never stray from you.” Thus concludes the Song of the Gopīs, the thirty-first chapter in the first half of the Tenth Book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, the great Purāṇa, scripture of the supreme renunciates. In the aftermath of Kṛṣṇa’s departure from this world, the wives of Rāma embraced his body and entered the fire, as did the wives of Vasudeva, the daughters-in-law of Hari, including those of Pradyumna, and the wives of Kṛṣṇa himself, led by Rukmiṇī—all united in spirit with their beloved. Arjuna, overwhelmed by the loss of his dearest friend Kṛṣṇa, sought solace in singing and reflecting on the wisdom and deeds of Kṛṣṇa. He performed the proper funeral rites for his slain relatives, arranging everything in due order. The ocean then surged and engulfed Dvārakā, which Hari had abandoned, sparing only the splendid abode of the Lord. There, Lord Madhusūdana remains eternally present, removing all evil through remembrance, the most auspicious among all that is auspicious. Arjuna, taking the surviving women, children, and elders, brought them to Indraprastha and installed Vajra as king. When the elders heard of the passing of their friends, O King, Arjuna’s grandfathers appointed you as the bearer of the lineage, and then all departed on the great journey. Whoever, with faith, recounts the birth and deeds of Viṣṇu, Lord of the gods, is freed from all sins. In this way, by hearing and reciting the charming descents, heroic deeds, and childhood exploits of Hari, the Lord, whether here or elsewhere, one attains supreme devotion on the path of the highest renunciates. Yet, a person driven by passion, with body, pride, increasing anger, and desire, enters into conflict with others who are also desirous, thus bringing ruin upon himself. In the body, composed of the five elements, the ignorant soul clings to the false notions of “I” and “mine,” and this misguided thinking produces a faulty intellect. If again a creature follows the path of the wicked, striving only for the satisfaction of the genitals and belly, he indulges and falls into darkness as before. Truth, purity, compassion, silence, intelligence, fortune, modesty, fame, forgiveness, tranquility, self-control, and prosperity—all these diminish through association with those who lack them. Therefore, one should not associate with the restless, the foolish, the broken in spirit, the unsaintly, the pitiable, or with women who are like playthings. Delusion and bondage do not arise so much from association with others as from association with women, and even more so from association with those attached to women. It is said that the lord of creatures, seeing his own daughter, was overcome by her beauty when she had taken the form of a roe deer, and he, ashamed, pursued her in the form of a stag. Among all created beings, who but the sage Nārāyaṇa, whose mind is never disturbed, can resist a woman like me, fashioned by illusion? Behold the power of my illusion, embodied as a woman, which conquers even the victorious of all directions—she subdues those who have trodden the earth, merely by the arching of her brows.