Cursed now be name and form; these are the guilt that I carry bound up with me. Let us take the dust on the saints’ feet to rid us of this burden of clay. Pride in worthless claims was bringing me to misery. Tuka says, Our joy in the formless is true and beyond all names.
Hinduism
Tukaram, Poem 863
Source The Poems of Tukârâma, trad. J. Nelson Fraser et K. B. Marathe, 3 vol., 1909-1915, archive.org · Contents