Tukaram, Poem 2048

A narrow door outwards and a wide space within—what avails it to keep silence with the lips, while your thoughts are wandering through the ten quarters of the sky? Many a man disguises himself outwardly, while the relics of desire are left within him. If the senses are not subdued, why have you set your shop front in order? You have swept clean the outside, while the inside is foul. Tuka says. When the end approaches, none of this will be useful to you.