Tukaram, Poem 41

I am a man of low degree—why should I be proud? It is You that people honour in me, O Narayana. What pleasure or pain can I find in that? Honour and dishonour spring from the qualities of men. I am like a rag that men set on their heads to honour it, because it once held a golden coin. Tuka says, People honour me, but I am not what they honour; what reason is there to delight in so feeble a creature?