Tukaram, Poem 1115

I have waked you with noisy cries, for I know not how to dance or sing. I am no more ashamed or afraid or anxious for my belly’s sake. Sit down, for you are tired. We will rub your feet, O generous one; your body is hot. We will make you feel the wind. One delay follows another; how can I describe it? A mother should feel no anger against her child. Tuka says, We will call together all the children and the cowherds and meet you and cry upon you.