Confession, words without realization
Original Marathi from the Tukaram Gatha · About Sant Tukaram
मराठी मूळ
स्वप्नींच्या सुखें नाहीं होत राजा । तैसा दिसे माझा अनुभव ॥1॥
कासया हा केला जिहुवे अळंकार । पायांसी अंतर दिसतसे ॥ध्रु.॥
दर्पणींचें धन हातीं ना पदरीं । डोळां दिसें परी सत्याचिये ।
आस केली तरी लाळ चि घोंटावी । ठकाठकी तेवीं दिसतसे ॥2॥
कवित्वें रसाळ वदविली वाणी । साक्ष ही पुराणीं घडे ऐसी ।
तुका ह्मणे गुरें राखोनि गोंवारी । माझीं ह्मणे परि लाभ नाहीं ॥3॥
अनुभव तो नाहीं अमुचिया दरषणें । अइकिलें कानें वदे वाणी ।
Tukaram Gatha (Marathi Wikisource)
English Translation
The happiness of dreams does not make one a king, and so it is with my experience. Why adorn the tongue with ornaments when the distance from Your feet is still visible? Wealth in a mirror is neither in the hand nor in the pocket. It appears before the eyes but lacks all truth. If one desires, one must swallow mere saliva, and the whole thing seems like a grand deception. Says Tuka, poetry has made the tongue eloquent, and even the scriptures bear witness to such things, yet a cowherd who tends the cattle may call them his own without gaining any real profit. Experience is not found in our vision; we merely speak what our ears have heard.
We ask forgiveness for any inaccuracies in rendering Tukaram ji’s original Marathi.
In Plain Words
Dream happiness does not make you a king. That is what my experience looks like. Why decorate the tongue, when the distance from your feet is still plain to see? Wealth in a mirror is not in my hand, not in my pocket. The eyes see it, but it has no truth in it. If you long for it, all you swallow is your own saliva. The whole thing looks like one deception piled on another. Poetry has made my speech sweet and flowing, and even the scriptures bear witness to such things. Tuka says: a cowherd tending the cattle may call them his own, yet he gains nothing by it. Real experience is not in our seeing. We only speak what our ears have heard.
What it means
Tukaram measures fluent speech against the thing it claims and finds it empty. Eloquent words are like joy felt in a dream or treasure seen in a mirror: vivid to the eye, but not in your hand, leaving you swallowing your own spit when you reach for them. He will not let his own gift fool him; poetry has made his tongue sweet and the scriptures seem to back such talk, but talk is not attainment. The cowherd who calls the herd his own while owning none of it is the exact image of a reciter who handles holy words without possessing the reality. He ends in honest confession: true experience is not yet his, and he is only repeating what his ears took in.
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