And she continues: 

  O make him enjoy me, my friend, that Krishna so fickle,
  I who am shy like a girl on her way to the first of her trysts of love,
  He who is charming with flattering words, I who am tender
  In speech and smiling, he on whose hip the garment lies loosely worn.

  O make him enjoy me, my friend, that Krishna so fickle,
  Me who sweated and moistened all over my body with love’s exertion,
  That Krishna whose cheeks were lovely with down all standing on end
    as he thrilled,
  Whose half-closed eyes were languid, and restless with brimming
    desire.

  O make him enjoy me, my friend, that Krishna so fickle,
  Me whose masses of curls were like loose-slipping flowers, whose
    amorous words
  Were vague as of doves, that Krishna whose bosom is marked
  With scratches, surpassing all in his love that the science of love
    could teach.

  O make him enjoy me, my friend, that Krishna so fickle,
  To whose act of desire accomplished the anklets upon my feet bejewelled
  Vibrated sounding, who gave his kisses seizing the hair of the head,
  And to whom in his passionate love my girdle sounded in eloquence
    sweet.

As Radha sits longing for him in lonely sadness, Krishna suddenly repents, is filled with remorse and abruptly goes in quest of her.  He does not know, however, where to find her and as he wanders, he expresses his sorrow.

  Radha so deeply wronged, troubled to see me surrounded by women,
  She went, and I, in fear of my guilt, made no attempt to stop her,
  Alas, alas, she is gone in anger, her love destroyed.

  O my slender one, I imagine your heart is dejected,
  I cannot console you kneeling in homage, I know not where to find
    you. 
  If you pardon me now I shall never repeat this neglect of you ever—­
  O beautiful, give me your pleasure again.  I burn with desire.

As Krishna searches unavailingly, Radha’s friend lights upon him and conveys news of her love-tormented state.

  Armour she makes of tender lotus garlands to hide her bosom from
    you,
  Large garlands, as if to protect you from heavy showers of shafts from
    the god of love. 
  She fears an attack of Love upon you, and lies away hidden;
  She wastes away, Krishna, parted from you.

As he hears this, Krishna is torn with longing.  He does not, however, go immediately to Radha but instead asks the friend to bring Radha to him.  The girl departs, meets Radha and gives her Krishna’s message.  She then describes Krishna’s love-lorn state: 

  When he hears the noise of swarms of bees, he covers his ears from their
    humming;
  Pain he feels, night after night, of a heart in love that is parted. 
  He droops, separated from you, O friend, the wearer of garlands.

The girl assures Radha that Krishna is contrite and urges her to delay no longer.