Tukaram, Poem 810

The body is a store-house of pain, a chamber of disease, a stinking corner; there is nothing so abominable. The body is noble, a heap of delights; it is the body that has found the way and attained the primal spirit. The body is a trench of corruption, a snare of illusive desire. Sin has its roots in the body, destruction pervades it. The body is altogether pure, the treasure of treasures; it is the body that breaks the ties of the world, God dwells delighted within it. The body is a creature shapen of ignorance, a mass of evil qualities; misery dwells within it, there is no good quality found there. Give not the body pleasure, neither torture it or forsake it; it is neither good nor bad, says Tuka; turn with ardour to the worship of Hari.