Anandamurti that I have got from the ruins of the terracotta temples,
Limestone powder and small brick built,
Centuries old, lying unworshipped, but in a plenty,
The anandamurti that I have got from that rubble,
The columns dug out,
Looking black, carbon-covered
But golden, made from pure gold,
I shall not, shall not give that to you!
Oh, it is of history, historiography and archaeology,
It is of the museums,
I shall not hand it over to you,
A replica of the olden temples,
The golden age and time of the strong belief of India,
Of the days of yore,
I shall not, shall not hand it over to you!
It is my precious collection, a precious collection of the statue of
Radha-Radha, Krishna-Krishna, Radha and Krishna, Krishna and Radha
With the Divine Flute
Standing on a Lotus,
Oh, a metallic statue,
A golden Radha and Krishna!
I do not know, nor can find whose statue is this, who made it and when,
Where was it found,
When, when was it made,
Who the makers were,
Who the keepers,
Where was the temple,
How did it remain hidden from them!
Who was the last possessor to keep it, whether a priest or an old man,
Why did he let it out to be there,
Did the town get destroyed in an epidemic,
Was there none in the family to be handed over,
Did the possessor fear the dacoits and thieves,
Oh, what was the matter,
You say it to me!
My eyes cannot believe when I see it standing,
My eyes cannot behold it
The statue black, but of gold,
Golden and metallic,
With time and handicrafts and craftsmanship,
An artisan's artistic work it is,
A black Radha-Krishna
How to, how to show it to mankind
That I have from the columns and pillars of the olden terracotta temples!
The anandamurti that I have found, I shall not hand it over to anyone
That which I have found from the foundation stone
Of the broken columns and levelled walls of the ruined temples,
The debris and rubble of it,
A golden statue of Krishna and Radha, Radha and Krishna
And I lie lost in the reflection and joy of mine,
Feeling Divine Ananda
In seeing the statue of the Cosmic Delight.