Tukaram, Poem 2775

Should we give Thee up now, we have nothing in our hand or knotted up in our dress; our friends and kindred have forsaken us. So far as the world goes, I am become like dry leaves blown about by the wind; so I have lost all shame. I dare not go to any one’s door; I have brought this degradation on myself. What false step did my mind take? I can find no refuge now. Tuka says, You have many worshippers, so there is no room for me here.