Tukaram, Poem 991

Brother, to him I address my recitation of praises; come now, you the Kali age—foul and untidy! Spit upon his face! All speech of self-praise is idle; cast it away! He is a slave to his wife, heedless of his parents; he bestows no charity on beggars. He uses his education to torment people with discussions and he breaks up the parties of other harmless people. He does not revere his village god; Brahmans and beggars never come near him. He is always finding fault. He never remembers Govinda even in a dream. He shuts up his wealth in a pit. He tightens his waist band to keep off hunger; he does not know what charity is. Tuka says, He goes about with affected airs, but he does not let devotion touch him.