Tukaram, Poem 3010

What prayer can I put up? Who will decide that what I say has found favour? O Store of Grace, I can form no inference concerning this. Most piteous cries have I uttered; no answer have I heard. Up till now, I felt sure that some of my service had been accepted. Tuka says, Now nothing but the struggle is left me; I see no sign of assurance in him who stands hand on hip.