Tukaram, Poem 1913

I cannot see any mercy in you; you accept my service and speak not. Let us see what source of strength you have; behind what defence you conceal yourself. We have explored your means of attack and defence; we know, O generous one, all your means of hiding. Now, while we have left but a little consideration for each other, it is well; what is the use of multiplying words? Tuka says, The saints help me, and thus this topic arose in my mind.