Vrajaraja-suta Shyamsundar

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nava-nīrada-nindita-kānti-dharaḿ
rasa-sāgara-nāgara-bhūpa-varam
śubha-vańkima-cāru-śikhaṇḍa-śikhaḿ
bhaja kṛṣṇa-nidhiḿ vraja-rāja-sutam

He Whose complexion conquers that of a fresh new rain-cloud, Who is the best King of Paramours, the ocean of ecstatic mellows, Whose crown is adorned with a lovely peacock feather And is auspiciously tilted to one side, Just worship Krishna, the Dark Jewel, the son of the King of Vraja.

All glories to Vrajaraja suta, Sri Shyamsundar, the ocean of whose names, fame, qualities and pastimes has no shore, and which cannot be fully described even by Ananta Shesha, who constantly sings his glories with his unlimited mouths. Eternally situated in the age of a freshly blossoming youth, he stands in a three-fold bending posture under a Kadambe tree at the banks of the river Yamuna and attracts the hearts of all the Vraja Gopis with his sweet flute song. That best of paramours, Gopinath, whose complexion puts to shame the beauty of a fresh rain-cloud and whose crooked crown is adorned with peacock feathers, performs numerous amorous pastimes in the grooves of Vrindavan with Srimati Radhika and her Gopi fiends, thus filling their hearts with unlimited bliss. May that Shyamsundar, the son of Nanda, steal away our hearts and thus keep us eternally at his lotus feet.