Tukaram, Poem 2522

He who loves not discourse of Hari, to call Him a wretch would be waste of time. It is a disaster for him to be born; all he gains is a place in hell. Why was this stone born alive? Why did he not drop like a worm from the body? Once and again the fool is born and dies, but like a clod he feels no shame therefore. Why did his mother bring him forth! Why did she not stifle him? Without God or religion this man is a rogue; the earth cannot endure his weight. What do you lose by uttering the name of Rama? He who fails to do this, says Tuka, will be born in hell, birth after birth.