Tukaram, Poem 180

How could we contrive a ferry across the mirage of the world, to cross to the farther side of it? When children play at shop with coins of broken potsherds, what real loss or gain is made in that business? When girls play at a wedding, does any real relation between them follow? Whatever joy or grief we experience in a dream, when we wake we find it was a false impression. It is false that all are born or dead, or bound or free or suffering, says Tuka.