O noble one, as the autumn night deepens, your gaze steals the very beauty from the heart of the lotus. Lord of love, we are your unpaid servants, ever devoted; O giver of boons, is it right for you to end us here? Again and again, O supreme one, you have protected us from the poison of water, from demons in serpent form, from storms, lightning, fire, from the wrath of the son of the rain-god, and from dangers everywhere. You are not merely the delight of the gopīs; you are the inner witness of all embodied beings. At Brahma’s request, you appeared in the clan of the Sātvatas for the world’s protection, O friend. Foremost among the Vṛṣṇis, you have made your feet a shelter for those who approach you, freeing them from the fear of worldly existence. Beloved, whose lotus hands grant desires, place your auspicious grasp upon our heads. O hero, remover of Vraja’s suffering, whose smile destroys the pride even of your own people, accept us as your servants and show us your beautiful lotus-like face. You are the destroyer of sin for those who bow, the follower of those who graze grass, the abode of fortune. Your lotus feet were offered by the serpent’s hoods; place them on our breasts and relieve the pain in our hearts. With sweet speech, charming words, and wisdom pleasing to the mind, O lotus-eyed one, you bewilder us; O hero, nourish us with the nectar of your lips. The nectar of your stories is life for the suffering; praised by poets, it removes sin. Hearing them brings auspiciousness and wealth; those who spread them on earth are truly generous. Your laughter, beloved, your loving glances, your play, and your meditation are auspicious. The secret conversations that touch the heart, O enchanter, disturb our minds. When you wander from Vraja, herding the cows, O lord, your lotus-like feet tread on stones, grass, and sprouts; our minds, afflicted by longing, follow you, beloved. At the end of the day, with blue hair, you appear, bearing a forest-flower face, covered in dust from the clouds, repeatedly showing yourself; O hero, you stir love in our hearts. Your lotus feet, which grant desires to those who bow, are worshipped by Lakshmi, ornament of the earth, worthy of meditation in adversity, and bring peace; beloved, place them upon our breasts and relieve our pain. Your lips, kissed by the melodious flute, increase love and destroy sorrow, making people forget all other passions; O hero, grant us the nectar of your lips. When you wander the forest by day, for those who do not see you, a moment becomes an age; your curly hair and beautiful face, for those who gaze with dull eyes, are hidden by their own eyelids. Having abandoned husbands, sons, family, brothers, and relatives, we, the last ones, have come to you, O infallible one. Knowing your path, enchanted by your song, which woman would return home at night? The secret conversations, the rising of love in the heart, your smiling face, loving glances, and the splendor of your broad chest, O abode of fortune, repeatedly cause our minds to long and become bewildered. O embodiment of auspiciousness for the dwellers of Vraja, your presence alone destroys all suffering and brings universal blessing. Withdraw even slightly from those whose hearts are afflicted by longing for you, for your absence is the cure for the pain of separation among your own people. O beloved, we gently place your beautiful lotus feet upon our breasts, though we are fearful of their hardness. Is it for this reason you wander the forest, and do your feet not feel pain from walking on sharp stones? Our minds, sustained by your life, do not stray from you. Thus ends Chapter Thirty-One, named "The Song of the Gopīs," in the first half of the Tenth Book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam, the great Purāṇa, the scripture of the supreme renunciates. Afterwards, the wives of Rāma embraced his body and entered the fire; the wives of Vasudeva, as well as the daughters-in-law of Hari, including those of Pradyumna, did likewise; and the wives of Kṛṣṇa, led by Rukmiṇī, entered the fire, united in spirit with him. Arjuna, overwhelmed by separation from his dear friend Kṛṣṇa, consoled himself with songs and wise sayings about Kṛṣṇa. He performed the proper funeral rites for his relatives whose lineage had been lost, arranging them in due order for those who had been slain. The ocean flooded Dvārakā, which had been abandoned by Hari, in a moment, O King, except for the splendid abode of the Lord. There, Lord Madhusūdana is eternally present, removing all evil by remembrance, the most auspicious among all auspicious things. Taking the surviving women, children, and elders, Dhanañjaya brought them to Indraprastha and installed Vajra there as king. Hearing of the death of their friends, Arjuna’s grandfathers made you the bearer of the lineage, O King, and all departed on the great path. Whoever, with faith, recounts the deeds and birth of Viṣṇu, Lord of the gods, is freed from all sins. In this way, hearing and reciting the charming descents, heroic deeds, and childhood exploits of Hari, the Lord, whether here or elsewhere, a person attains supreme devotion on the path of the highest renunciates. With the body, pride, increasing anger, and desire, a passionate person engages in conflict with others who are also desirous, bringing ruin upon himself. In the body, composed of the five elements, the ignorant soul repeatedly 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 for the satisfaction of the genitals and belly, he indulges and enters 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. One should not associate with those who are restless, foolish, broken in spirit, or unsaintly, nor with those who are pitiable or women who are like playthings. Delusion and bondage do not arise so much from association with others as they do from association with women, and even more so from association with those attached to women. The lord of creatures, seeing his own daughter, was overcome by her beauty; she had taken the form of a roe deer, and he, ashamed, pursued her in the form of a stag. Among all those created and repeatedly created beings, who, except for 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. One who seeks to ascend to the highest stage of yoga should never associate with women; those who have attained the true self through serving me declare that such association is the gateway to hell. The illusion, in the form of a woman, created by the gods, approaches slowly; one should recognize her as death for the self, like a well covered with grass. Deluded, a man thinks of her as his wife, though she is my illusion, appearing as a cow; by associating with women, he enters womanhood and becomes bound to wealth, children, and home.