1
God, loose me not from His hand; I have
come with devout faith to seek His protection.
Consider me Thy own; I perform for Thee a
neem-fruit ceremony with my own soul. Sitting
amid the saints, I have learned to know the consort
of Lakshmi; I had nothing to call my own; thus
my thoughts were fixed on Thee. Hindrances arise
to keep us from Thy worship; they raise before us
the temptations of the world. Men love what is
base and call it sweet; as we look upon them
we discern their clownish natures. Men are ever
dying and have died, innumerable; it is good for
us to gaze upon them; therefore I come to entreat
thy mercy; grant me to be patient and steadfast.
Let men censure me, at their ease; I will not
answer them. You, O Narayana, are our first
father; your feet are solid gain. If I will not seek
my own advantage, if I am content to depend on
my merit, then I am a worthless sinner; the saints
will laugh at me, says Tuka.
My fear, I have forgotten my fatigue; so I call on the Lord of the world with piteous cries. My father is a mighty man, a jewel in a crest; my words shall cause Him to arise. When my prayer falls on His ears, He will not be slothful; He gives strength to His suppliant, He relieves him from anxious fear; He sets him down at a banquet and gives him to eat freely. He bears him on His shoulder, He takes him home, he visits him oft and oft. Tuka says, Let my Lord regard my stammering speech.
God, loose me not from His hand; I have
come with devout faith to seek His protection.
Consider me Thy own; I perform for Thee a
neem-fruit ceremony with my own soul. Sitting
amid the saints, I have learned to know the consort
of Lakshmi; I had nothing to call my own; thus
my thoughts were fixed on Thee. Hindrances arise
to keep us from Thy worship; they raise before us
the temptations of the world. Men love what is
base and call it sweet; as we look upon them
we discern their clownish natures. Men are ever
dying and have died, innumerable; it is good for
us to gaze upon them; therefore I come to entreat
thy mercy; grant me to be patient and steadfast.
Let men censure me, at their ease; I will not
answer them. You, O Narayana, are our first
father; your feet are solid gain. If I will not seek
my own advantage, if I am content to depend on
my merit, then I am a worthless sinner; the saints
will laugh at me, says Tuka.
My fear, I have forgotten my fatigue; so I call on the Lord of the world with piteous cries. My father is a mighty man, a jewel in a crest; my words shall cause Him to arise. When my prayer falls on His ears, He will not be slothful; He gives strength to His suppliant, He relieves him from anxious fear; He sets him down at a banquet and gives him to eat freely. He bears him on His shoulder, He takes him home, he visits him oft and oft. Tuka says, Let my Lord regard my stammering speech.