They call You a sea of mercy; then why do You delay, O Panduranga? Why have You no pity yet? I cry like the fawn for its mother, when it is wearied by thirst and hunger in the jungle. Suckle me, O mother, with the milk of love, run towards me with swollen breast.
Tuka says, Who but You, O Panduranga, will drive away my pangs?
Tuka says, Who but You, O Panduranga, will drive away my pangs?