Toss, toss the ball! The root-lock is the waistband, and bhava is the wager. Now watch my turn. Hand to hand she was caught and lost her sense of self. My resolve is firm; drop your feeble words. Let Hari accept you; do not fall into the cycle again. Hold your dignity, you harlot; the world will beat a shameless woman. Sit behind your bhava and listen to my counsel. Give up the commotion you have made; fix your longing here instead. Turn your back on the world's sway and restrain your speech. You have scattered yourself, child; ahead lies only ruin. Now stand firm in your place and look straight ahead. Do not become a sow, or next a donkey, or a bitch. Nama proved himself true, and I did well for myself. Says Tuka, the rest of the girls were scattered and lost.