The confidante loquitur.

That gay one who is the abode of virtue
Incessantly murmurs thy name,
On hearing a word of thee
His limbs are pervaded by a thrill,
Bending down lowly his head
Tears pour from his eyes,
If one should ask him a word
He waves (him) away with his hand,
If one should speak concerning thee
Thou wilt see there is nothing else in his mind.
There is no firmness (left) in him;
A serious matter Cha.n.dî Dâs sings.
      I. iv. 94.

– Chandidas

A more modern translation


(The same.)

Ah lady! ah lady! hear a word,
At length having seen (him) I have come again;
Looking, looking, (my) pain increased,
Whatever was done profited not.
He binds not his hair, he girds not his waist,
He eats not food, he drinks not water.
The colour of gold Šyâm has become,
Constantly remembering thy name.
He does not recognize any one, his eye does not wink,
He remains with fixed look like a doll of wood.
I placed a piece of wool to his nose,
Then only I perceived that he breathed,
There is breath, but there remains no life,
Delay not, my happiness depends on it!
Cha.n.dî Dâs saith (it is) the anguish of separation
In his heart, the only medicine is Radha.
      I. iv. 98.

– Chandidas

From Sacred Texts