Classic Poem

The naive milkmaid goes around selling Hari!
In her little pot, she has put the sweetheart of sixteen thousand gopis!
She is selling the only refuge of the helpless!
`Anyone to buy my Murari? 'In every street she cries.
The naive milkmaid goes around selling Hari!

When the pot was opened, they heard the marvelous flute
And as they saw the face, the women of Vraj swooned at the sight!
The naive milkmaid goes around selling Hari!

Even gods like Indra and Brahma watch with wonder
For the see the Lord of fourteen worlds in that little pot!
The naive milkmaid goes around selling Hari!

The milkmaids are so fortunate to have the lord of their heart with them;
Indeed, Narsaiyya's lord pampers and spoils his servants!
The naive milkmaid goes around selling Hari!