Tukaram, Poem 2575

Let us not touch a guilty man; if he die, let him go his own way to hell. A woman in her courses may destroy a vine if she touch it; ’twere better for her if she kept at a distance from it. Why should she vainly destroy the fruits that have shown themselves, by adding uncleanness to uncleanness? Tuka says, What good will it do us to mix butter and cowdung?