Krishna the champion, the heavens left empty
Original Marathi from the Tukaram Gatha · About Sant Tukaram
मराठी मूळ
टाळ टिपरी मांदळे एक नाद रे । जाला बसवंत देवकीचा बाळ रे ॥१॥
चला तें कवतुक भाई रे । पाहों डोळां कामीं गुंतलेति काई रे ।
भाग्यवंत कोणी गेले सांगाति । ऐसें सुख त्रिभुवनीं नाहीं रे ॥ध्रु.॥
आनंदाचे वाद सुखाचे संवाद । एक एका दाखविती छंद रे ।
साही अठरा चारी घालुनियां घाई । नाचती फेरी टाळशुद्ध रे ॥२॥
भक्ताचीं भूषणें मुद्रा आभरणें । शोभती चंदनाच्या उट्या रे ।
सत्व सुंदर कास घालूनि कुसरी । गर्जती नाम बोभाटीं रे ॥३॥
हरि हर ब्रम्हा तीर्थासहित भीमा । देव कोटी तेहतीस रे ।
विस्मित होऊनि ठाकले सकळ जन । अमरावती केली ओस रे ॥४॥
वाणितील थोरी वैकुंठिचीं परी । न पवे पंढरीची सरी रे ।
तुकयाचा दास म्हणे नका आळस करूं । सांगतों नरनारींस रे ॥५॥
Tukaram Gatha (Marathi Wikisource)
English Translation
Cymbals, clappers, and drums sound as one; the son of Devaki has become the champion of the arena. Come, let us see this wonder, O brothers. Why are you entangled in worldly affairs? Some fortunate ones have gone ahead as companions; such bliss is not found in all three worlds. There are debates of joy and dialogues of happiness; each shows the other his delight. With all six, eighteen, and four playing in unison, they dance in circles to the pure beat of the cymbals. The devotees are adorned with their sacred marks and ornaments, shining with sandalwood paste. Girded with strength and beauty, they roar the Name aloud. Hari, Hara, Brahma, the river Bhima with all its sacred sites, thirty-three crore gods, all stand amazed and spellbound. Even the city of the gods, Amaravati, was left deserted. They speak of the glory of Vaikuntha, yet none can match the splendor of Pandhari. Says the servant of Tuka, do not be lazy; I am telling this to all men and women.
We ask forgiveness for any inaccuracies in rendering Tukaram ji’s original Marathi.
In Plain Words
Cymbals, clappers, and drums sound as one; the son of Devaki has become the champion of the arena. Come, let us see this wonder, brothers. Why are you tangled in worldly affairs? Some fortunate ones have gone ahead as companions; such bliss is not found in the three worlds. There are contests of joy and exchanges of delight; each shows the other his gladness. With the six, the eighteen, and the four all playing in unison, they dance in circles to the pure beat of the cymbals. The devotees are adorned with sacred marks and ornaments, shining with sandalwood paste. Girded with strength and beauty, they roar the Name aloud. Hari, Hara, Brahma, the river Bhima with all its holy places, thirty-three crore gods, all stand amazed and spellbound. Even Amaravati, the city of the gods, was left deserted. They praise the glory of Vaikuntha, yet none can match the splendor of Pandhari. The servant of Tuka says: do not be lazy. I am telling this to all men and women.
What it means
Tukaram sets the singing of the Name at the center and makes Krishna, the son of Devaki, the champion of the whole dance. The frame the poem builds is a reversal of the usual order of things: the gods themselves, Hari, Hara, Brahma, all thirty-three crore of them, are not the spectacle but the spectators, standing amazed at what mere devotees are doing. He pushes the claim to its edge by saying Amaravati, the gods' own city, stood empty, as if even the heavens had emptied out to watch. The verse insists that Pandhari outshines Vaikuntha, that this earthly festival of the Name surpasses paradise. The closing call is practical and urgent: do not be lazy, this is offered to everyone, women and men alike, so come.
Devotion to Vitthal
Poems of praise, invocation, and intimate address to Lord Vitthal at Pandharpur.
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