Tukaram, Poem 2905

Thy name is like nectar; what need we lack that comes within its range? If we imprison it within our throats we have a cow of wishes there. What mother cannot recognize her own baby? When she hears it cry, her milk streams forth. A man who was never seen to beg feels ashamed when he takes a gift. To preserve their good name men have died on battle-fields; the hero will not turn back from the combat. Tuka says, While we sing him in songs we know him best; what desire have we to see Vitthoba in person?