Tukaram, Poem 2795

I will carry on my shoulders the sandals and hosen of the saints; I will dance before them with the cymbals in my hand. I know nothing of the ritual of worship or means of attainment; of mystic contemplation, meditation, postures, trance; I am ignorant, unashamed, I cannot recognize musical notes. All my possessions, family and treasure, says Tuka, are the feet of saints and teachers.