Smaller than the smallest atom,
All embracing as the heavens,
Tuka views the world objective -
Name and form as all delusion -
Realising its true nature
Serpent like, he drops his cover,
Far is left the triple range,
Which the soul has just passed o'er
Light the jar of dull clay brightens!
Shining in that light doth Tuka
Live on earth to serve the mankind.
Thou art more kind than mother dear,
More soothing than the rays of moon
Thy love an ever flowing tide,
Sinks deeper than a common stream
I know of none that equals Thee -
Thou best of all immortal Gods
I wave my name above Thy head,
And part it at thy holy feet.
Ah! Sweeter than sweetest things,
And mightier than all the elements,
Those rulest O'er the Universe,
And se’est that it goes all right,
In silence do I lay my head
upon thy feet, and pray "Forgive"
All men are to me God like Gods!
I see no vice no faults in them
Now happy in my life on earth
The hearts content is won great gain!
The face and its reflection true
Seems different though they are one,
For when a stream ocean joins
It is no more distinct stream!
Let those go home who will
Receive this blessing from a loosing heart
Let righteous deed secure you all good weal
Ye brought me up and gave me to one
who will not give you cause for anxious thoughts
I must now walk with my dear Lord of Life
Whom have I followed with inborn love.
If your love for me I give free scope
T’will cause delay. Be calm, allay your grief
who take each other by the hand secure
full purpose of this life --- as Laws assert
we part for good; reserve for talk the past.
He who utters the Name of God while walking
gets the merit of a sacrifice at every step
His body becomes a place of pilgrimage.
He who repeats God’s Name while working
always finds perfect peace.
He who utters the Name of God while eating
gets the merit of a fast
even though he has taken his meals.
Even if one were to give in charity
the whole world encircled by the seas
it would not equal the merit of repeating the Name,
By the power of the Name
one will know what cannot be known,
One will see what cannot be seen,
One will speak what cannot be spoken,
One will meet what cannot be met.
Tuka says.
Incalculable is the gain that comes
From repeating the Name of God.
From: Teachings of the Hindu Mystics
Edited: Andrew Harvey
If men are habitations of God, we should fall at their feet
But we should leave alone their habits and goals.
Fire is good to drive away cold
But you must not tie it up
And carry it around in a cloth.
Tuka says, "A scorpion or a snake is a habitation of Narayana;
You may worship Him from afar, but you must not touch Him."
Just beyond us we see that purple luster - how glorious!
With His noble crown of peacock feathers stitched together.
As you look upon Him, fever and illusion vanish
Adore then the Prince of the Yadavas, the Lord of Yogis.
He who filled with passion the sixteen thousand royal damsels,
Fair Creatures, divine maidens.
He stands upon the river bank with the luster of one million moons.
It is fastened in jewels on His neck
And merges into the luster of His form.This God who bears the wheel is the chief of the Yadavas.
Him the thirty three crores of demigods adore.
The demons tremble before Him.
His dark blue countenance destroys sin.
How fair are His feet with saffron stained!
*How fortunate is the brick that is grasped by His feet!
The very thought of Him makes fire cool.
Therefore embrace Him with experience of your own.
The sages, as they see His face, contemplate Him in the spirit,
The Father of the World stands before them in bodily shape.
Tuka is frenzied after Him; His purple form ravages the mind
Words are the only jewels that I possess
Words are the only Clothes that I wear
Words are the only food That sustains my life
Words are the only wealth I distribute among people
Says Tuka Witness the Word He is God
I worship Him With my words
Take, Lord, unto Thyself
My sense of self; and let it vanish utterly.
Take, Lord, my life,
Live Thou my life through me.
I live no longer, Lord,
But in me now
Thou livest.
Aye, between Thee and me, my God,
There is no longer room for “I” and “mine.”
From John S.Hoyland, An Indian Peasant Mystics: Translations from Tukaram (Allenson &Co. 1932)
When thus I lose myself in Thee, my God,
Then do I see, and know,
That all Thy universe reveals Thy beauty,
All living beings, and all lifeless things,
Exist through Thee.
This whole vast world is but the form
In which Thous showest us Thyself,
Is but the voice
In which Thyself Thou speakest unto us.
What need of words?
Come, Master, come,
And fill me wholly with Thyself.
Mother-God,
Set me within the safe defences of Thy pity:
In ignorance and folly I have wasted all my days,
My soul is base:
Thy gift of life is squandered,
My latest days go fleeting by,
And fear grips hard upon me:
Far have I travelled,
Yet little fruit have I of all my wandering:
I have forgotten Thee,
Forgive me, save me
Show me Thy love,
And set me close by Thee, sure fenced from fear and doubt.
I speak,
Yet am I silent:
I am dead,
Yet do I live:
I am in the world,
Yet do I dwell beyond the world:
I have surrendered all things,
yet am I rich and joyful:
I am lonely
Yet am I not alone:
I am not what I seem to be:
If you would know what I am
Ask Him, my Lord.
I am not a Hindu,
Nor a Muslim am I!
I am this body, a play
Of five elements; a drama
Of the spirit dancing
With joy and sorrow
We’re sorry!
We have no manners!
But ...
We’re your children and you’re our Mom!
Send us food on golden platters.
Give us love
amidst life’s storms.
If our faith is
less-than-perfect,
do not notice;
We are yours!
Errant children,
dressed in tatters,
Tuka says,
You can’t ignore.
Consider me yours;
for I worship You, Lord.
In the company of saints,
my spirit soared.
Now I need nothing.
My thoughts are of You.
My faith is complete.
My devotion is true.
Distractions are many.
Friends say, "Grab this world."
They love worthless things
and call them their pearls.
Now I can see
those people are clowns,
since death sets a trap
and they just fall down.
Here I sit
alone at your feet.
Give me your patience
to become complete.
To my old friends
I will not respond;
for You are the one
of whom I am fond.
Argue no more about it,
Man’s crude and foolish mind, and that alone,
Hath taught this tale of many gods:
It is a lie:
For God is One,
One only:
And unto Him,
The One,
My soul shall sing her praise.
I speak,
Yet am I silent:
I am dead,
Yet do I live:
I am in the world,
Yet do I dwell beyond the world:
I have surrendered all things,
yet am I rich and joyful:
I am lonely
Yet am I not alone:
I am not what I seem to be:
If you would know what I am
Ask Him, my Lord.
All men to me are god-like Gods!
My eyes no longer see
vice or fault.Life on this suffering earth
is now endless delight;
the heart at rest, full,
overflowing.In the mirror, the face and its reflection --
they watch each other;
different, but one.And, when the stream pours into the ocean...
no more stream!
Smaller than the smallest atom,
All embracing as the heavens,
Tuka views the world objective -
Name and form as all delusion -
Realising its true nature
Serpent like, he drops his cover,
Far is left the triple range,
Which the soul has just passed o'er
Light the jar of dull clay brightens!
Shining in that light doth Tuka
Live on earth to serve the mankind.
If you treat the opposite sex with reverence
will you pay a price?
If you stop your fault-finding and covetous ways
will your earnings not suffice?If you sit in prayer and meditation
will it cost a living wage?
If you trust the words of realized souls
will your boss forget your pay?Is it a burden to pursue wisdom?
Do you fear the price it brings?
Tuka says,
Fools worry about the little stuff.
Don't they know? God brings everything!
Thou art more kind than mother dear,
More soothing than the rays of moon
Thy love an ever flowing tide,
Sinks deeper than a common stream
I know of none that equals Thee -
Thou best of all immortal Gods
I wave my name above Thy head,
And part it at thy holy feet.
Ah! Sweeter than sweetest things,
And mightier than all the elements,
Thou rulest O'er the Universe,
And seest that it goes all right,
In silence do I lay my head
upon thy feet, and pray "Forgive"
To arrange words
In some order
Is not the same thing
As the inner poise
That’s poetry
The truth of poetry
Is the truth
Of being.
It’s an experience
Of truth.
No ornaments
Survive
A crucible.
Fire reveals
Only molten
Gold.
Says Tuka
We are here
To reveal.
We do not waste
Words.
[Translated from the Marathi by Dilip Chitre]
How can I know the right
So helpless am I
Since thou Thy face hast hid from me
O Thou most high!
I call again and again at thy high gate
None hears me, empty is the house, and desolate