On the next day Krishna led the cows into the forest. His friends came along with Him. As the herd grazed, they began a game. They gathered kunda flowers and made them into balls. The white flower balls passed from hand to hand.
Krishna ran with the boys without pausing. At times He tossed a ball high overhead. At other times He sent it sideways toward a friend. Everyone watched where the next ball would land. The game filled them with delight.
When one ball flew high, Krishna raised His face. He lifted one hand to catch it. With the other He steadied the turban loosened by His running. His eyes narrowed against the strong sunlight. The poet preserves this vivid instant of play.
After running for a long time, beads of sweat appeared on His face. Krishna stopped to rest in the shade of a young tree. One friend made a resting place from his own cloth. Another cooled Him with a leafy branch. A third gently massaged His feet.
The boys gathered around Him with the same affection. Only moments before they had tossed the flower ball together. Now each helped Him rest in his own way. In the poem their days pass with Krishna and the cows. The joy of play continues in the friends' quiet care.