Ecstasy, death conquered, the mind at rest
Original Marathi from the Tukaram Gatha · About Sant Tukaram
मराठी मूळ
आह्मी विठ्ठलाचे दास जालों आतां । न चले हे सत्ता आणिकांची ॥1॥
नावरे तयासी ऐसें नाहीं दुजें । करितां पंढरिराजें काय नव्हे ॥ध्रु.॥
कोठें तुज ठाव घ्यावयासी धांवा । मना तूं विसावा घेई आतां ॥2॥
इंिद्रयांची वोढी मोडिला व्यापार । ज्या अंगें संचार चाळी तुज ॥3॥
तुका ह्मणे आह्मी जिंकोनियां काळ । बैसलों निश्चळ होऊनियां ॥4॥
Tukaram Gatha (Marathi Wikisource)
English Translation
I have become a servant of Vitthal now, and no other power holds sway over me. There is nothing that can overpower the one whom the Lord of Pandhari protects. Where will you run to take refuge, O mind? Rest now and take your ease. The pull of the senses has been broken and their activity has ceased. The very force that once drove you now obeys a different master. Says Tuka, we have conquered death itself and sit immovable and still.
We ask forgiveness for any inaccuracies in rendering Tukaram ji’s original Marathi.
In Plain Words
I have become Vitthal's servant now. No other power rules me anymore. Nothing can overpower the one whom the King of Pandhari protects; what cannot the King of Pandhari do? Where will you run to find refuge, O mind? Rest now and take your ease. The pull of the senses is broken, their trade shut down. The very force that once drove you now obeys another master. Tuka says: we have conquered death itself and sit down, unmoving and still.
What it means
Tukaram announces a change of ownership: he belongs to Vitthal now, so no other power has any claim on him. Under the protection of the King of Pandhari nothing can overpower him, for there is nothing that Lord cannot do. He turns to his own restless mind and tells it to stop running and rest, because the grip of the senses has been broken and the energy that once dragged him outward now serves God instead. The triumph is complete in the last line: with the senses stilled and the mind at peace, he says death itself is conquered, and he sits down immovable.
Ecstasy and Joy
Triumphant happiness: poems written from the far side of the struggle.
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