She appeared, resplendent and unconscious, her form radiant with the unmistakable marks of divine ecstasy. Surrounding her were thirty million gopīs, and together their brilliance rivaled the light of millions of moons. Her own glow was like a cluster of white campaka flowers, and she moved with the stately grace of a proud elephant. Around her neck hung a priceless necklace, studded with rubies that blazed with a fire-like purity. Her feet were soft and lovely, glowing with the radiance of lotus flowers, a sight that brought delight even to the gods. She descended from a celestial palace, itself adorned with the king of jewels. Upon her forehead, at the center and just beneath her hairline, shone a tilaka of musk, beautifully decorated with marks of sandalwood and the gentle radiance of the moon. Her abundant, lustrous hair trembled, as did she, shimmering with anticipation. With all her brilliance, she approached and stood beside Krishna, who was seated upon a splendid throne of jewels. Witnessing her arrival, Krishna—the infallible one—rose from his seat in reverent respect. The gopas, filled with awe and a touch of fear, bowed humbly, their necks bent low. At that moment, Ganga herself rose swiftly and began to speak. She stood before them, her posture humble and anxious, so nervous that her throat, lips, and palate had gone dry. Seeing her distress, Krishna, seated serenely on his lotus throne, offered her assurance and granted her fearlessness. Then Ganga lifted her gaze and beheld Radha, seated above on the throne. She saw there the primal one, the origin of countless Brahmas, the eternal source of all creation, unrivaled in form and quality among all the hosts of the universe. Radiant and auspicious, Subhadra, blessed with the good fortune of her Lord, was present as well. Radha herself was half of Krishna’s very being, equal to him in brilliance, youth, and radiant splendor. Her presence outshone the entire assembly, enveloping it in a supreme, dazzling light. Unborn, mother of all, honored and full of self-respect, she was the blessed and revered one. In that sacred moment, Radha addressed the Lord of the universe. She spoke, her words suffused with longing and gentle reproach: “Always, my gaze is fixed on you at my side, full of desire, my eyes reddened with passion. Overwhelmed by your beauty, I faint, my body covered in goosebumps. And you, too, always look at me with desire, smiling mischievously. You alone persist in such improper acts. “So take this dear beloved of yours, O libertine, and leave Goloka. I saw you with Viraja in the sandalwood forest. When you merely spoke my name, she vanished from your sight. The forest was a hundred yojanas wide and four times as long. When I had returned home, you went to her again. Then, rising from the water by her yogic power, she became a perfected yogini. You embraced her and deposited your seed. “I also saw you with a beautiful gopī in the champaka grove. Her beauty, leaving her body, entered the orb of the moon. That which you have given, you have distributed with a pure heart—a portion to the lotus-faced women, a portion to the king, a portion to sandalwood pastes, a portion to the sacred waters, and portions as well to fruits, grains, and all that is well-ripened.” Thus, in the assembly of the divine, Radha spoke, her words unfolding the mysteries of love, longing, and the sharing of Krishna’s boundless grace.