Tukaram, Poem 3605

He never even dreams of providing God with a robe; but he sends his wife a costly sari. To support a cow never enters his mind; but he caresses his horse with his own hand. He runs after his horde of dirty children to wash them, but he never says, “Let me bathe the feet of Bramhanas.” Spit in his face, says Tuka; he goes down to hell to meet his reward there.