Tukaram, Poem 2024

I do not serve Thee, O God; my sense of self is a poor thing to offer Thee; do thou bring to fulfilment the vow I have made. What other task hast Thou, but to impart Thy love to us? Apart from that, how can duty and transgression of duty exist? We offer Thee freely our bodies; do Thou sow true seed in them; union will be sweet to both of us. How can one hand clap a single cymbal? A servant, however strong in body he be, has no glory without his lord. O Infinite One, do Thou take a form on thee; I shall then control my outer tenement; I shall be exalted; I shall be the nurseling of the saints. Shouldest Thou delay, what avails this crumpled leaf? Tuka says, A prompt resolve is needed.