Listen, O saintly ones, to my stammering, childish words. I speak with the liberty of a child before you; let no one be angry. Hear the means and the path; learn what leads upward and what leads to ruin. Sit firm and attentive and hold these truths in your chitta. Dharma belongs to the one who has mastered the senses. Karma bears fruit for the one who has no fear or shame. Know that true merit lies in helping others, while true sin is in harming others and slandering them. Profit belongs to the one who utters God's name; the one chasing worldly pursuits suffers great loss. True happiness is the company of saints; true sorrow is where that company is absent. Spiritual practice succeeds for the one whose intellect is self-governed; the dependent one faces ruin in all dealings. True honor belongs to the one who controls the senses; the sensual one earns only disgrace. The wise one is the one who knows contentment; the ignorant one argues for the sake of ornament. The truly good one is the one who abandons what is harmful; the truly wicked one hoards ill-gotten wealth and enters others' homes. The righteous one cooks and gives a portion to the guest; the unrighteous one eats without witness or company. Self-benefit belongs to the one who sees God in all beings; ruin comes to the one who carries the ego. Blessed are those births that produced servants of Hari; cursed are those who remain tangled in sense pleasures and waste their lives. The truly discerning one knows the marks of perfection; the fool is dazzled by surface adornments. The truly brave one carries firm devotion in the body; the coward is the one who holds no single-pointed faith. The deep one swallows the Guru's word and sits still with it; the shallow one has no patience and wonders how it will all work out. The generous one places body and jiva at God's feet; the miser is the one who falls into the pit of worldly strife. True goodness is inner purity; the impure one is double-tongued inside. The only sweet thing is Vitthal's Name; bitter is this world of eighty-four hundred thousand births. Says Tuka, O mind, go home to the company of saints. Nothing more needs to be done; simply remain at Vitthal's feet.

Listen, saintly ones, to my stammering, childish words. I play like a child before you; let no one be angry. Hear the means and the path. Learn what raises a man and what ruins him. Sit firm, sit attentive, and hold this in your heart. Dharma belongs to the one who has mastered his senses. Karma bears fruit for the one without fear or shame. Know, my brothers, that true merit is helping others; the real sin is to hurt others and slander them. Gain belongs to the one whose mouth speaks God's name; the one tangled in worldly affairs takes great loss. Know, brothers, that true happiness is the company of saints; true sorrow is where that company is not. Practice succeeds for the one whose mind is his own; for the one ruled by his cravings there is ruin, know this well. True honor goes to the one who guards his senses; the man given to the senses tastes only the bitter dregs of disgrace. Call him wise who knows contentment; call him a fool who argues to show off. Know the one good man: he leaves behind what is harmful. The bad man hoards ill-gotten wealth and breaks into others' homes. The decent one cooks and sets aside a portion for the guest; the indecent one eats alone, with no witness, no company. He has done himself good who has seen God in all beings; he has done himself harm who carries the ego. Blessed are the births that brought forth servants of Hari; shame on those tangled in the senses who throw their lives away. Know the true judge: he reads the marks of the perfected. The fool is dazzled by surface ornament. Know the strong man: devotion is firm in his body. Call him a coward who holds no single faith. The deep one swallows the Guru's word and sits still with it; the shallow one has no patience and frets, how will this ever turn out. The generous one lays his very life at God's feet; call him a miser who falls into the pit of worldly trouble. Goodness is just this: a heart that is pure. The foul one is double-tongued inside, his speech carrying filth. There is only one sweet thing: the essence, Vitthal's Name. Bitter is this world and its eighty-four lakh births. Tuka says: O mind, go home to the company of saints. Nothing else need be done. Just stay at Vitthal's feet.