In a playful mood, after teasing you, About you and your family, And at a loss to control your love tiff, When your consort does prostrations, Your lotus like feet touches his forehead, And the God of love, the enemy of your Lord, who was burnt, By the fire from his third eye, And was keeping the enmity with your lord, Like the ever-hurting arrow, Makes sounds like Kili Kili, From your belled anklets on the legs.