Tukaram, Poem 362

Now I shall toil no more in this world of woe; I shall go humbly to the saints and beg of them a place by their feet. I know of no merit of mine that has brought Thy feet within my reach. Now, O mother, forget me not, I beseech Thee with loud cries. I am harassed by the world. I am caught in the poisonous net of illusive desire. The three qualities of the world foam like venom at my mouth, and I am overwhelmed with misery. Why should I number other miseries? The whole world is an eddy of misery. I cannot bear it; adamant would break beneath it; my soul is filled with trembling fear; I utterly shrink from the tale of this fetid world. I am changed from a sane man to a mad man. I turn to the infinite one, says Tuka.