Tukaram, Poem 2722

My mind is turned poet; God’s praises flow through my mouth like a cataract. There is a road marked out before me; my own nature leads me to follow it. I sing God’s excellent deeds, a theme ever new and ready to hand; I shape it as I please. I stand forward in the sight of all; I lead an army of bards that follow me. I speak out when He commands me, rendering willing service. There rains down on me a flood of satisfying gifts from His hand that stills all fear. Tuka’s lord adorns him with words that he himself inspires.