I turn no more to look behind me; I am thoroughly sick of the world. Come and meet me, O Generous One; I cannot bear the death! With thy support I shall be at peace then, I shall be content with my part in the game of life. My throat, says Tuka, is choked with this earnest desire; how is it this comfort visits me not?
Hinduism
Tukaram, Poem 2012
Source The Poems of Tukârâma, trad. J. Nelson Fraser et K. B. Marathe, 3 vol., 1909-1915, archive.org · Contents