The blind beggar's plea to the saints
Original Marathi from the Tukaram Gatha · About Sant Tukaram
मराठी मूळ
खेटितां कुंप कांटी । खुंट दरडी न पाहे । आधार नाहीं मज कोणी । बाप ना माये ॥१॥
दाते हो दान करा । जातें पंढरपुरा । न्या मज तेथवरी । अखमाचा सोयरा ॥ध्रु.॥
हिंडतां गव्हानें गा । शिणलों दारोदारीं । न मिळे चि दाता कोणी । जन्मदुःखातें वारी ।
कीर्ति हे संतां मुखीं । तो चि दाखवा हरी । पांगळां पाय देतो । नांदे पंढरपुरीं ॥२॥
या पोटाकारणें गा । जालों पांगीला जना । न सरे चि बापमाय । भीक नाहीं खंडणा ।
पुढारा म्हणती एक । तया नाहीं करुणा । श्वान हें लागे पाठीं । आशा बहु दारुणा ॥३॥
काय मी चुकलों गा । मागें नेणवे कांहीं । न कळे चि पाप पुण्य । तेथें आठव नाहीं ।
मी माजी भुललों गा । दीप पतंगासोयी । द्या मज जीवदान । संत महानुभाव कांहीं ॥४॥
दुरोनि आलों मी गा । दुःख जालें दारुण । यावया येथवरी होतें । हें चि कारण ।
दुर्लभ भेटी तुम्हां । पायीं जालें दरुषन । विनवितो तुका संतां । दोन्ही कर जोडून ॥५॥
देश वेष नव्हे माझा । सहज फिरत आलों । करूं सत्ता कवणावरी । कोठें स्थिर राहिलों ।
Tukaram Gatha (Marathi Wikisource)
English Translation
I stumble through hedges and thorns, tripping over stumps and cliffs without seeing; I have no support, no father, no mother. O generous ones, give this gift: carry me to Pandharpur, the home of the eternal Friend. Wandering door to door, I am exhausted, yet I find no giver who will end the suffering of birth. The saints praise him who grants feet to the crippled and dwells in Pandharpur. For the sake of this belly I became dependent on people, yet neither parent nor beggar's charity can sustain me. Those ahead say they have no compassion, and the dog of desire follows at my heels. I do not know what sin I committed before; I cannot tell merit from transgression. I have come from far away through grievous hardship, and only this longing brought me here. Says Tuka, with folded hands I beg the saints: this meeting with you is the rarest blessing.
We ask forgiveness for any inaccuracies in rendering Tukaram ji’s original Marathi.
In Plain Words
I stumble against hedges and thorns, over stumps and cliffs I cannot see. No one supports me, neither father nor mother. Givers, give your gift: I am going to Pandharpur. Carry me that far, you who befriend the helpless. Wandering the roads, I am worn out, door to door. I find no giver who will end the suffering of birth. The saints sing his fame; show me that very Hari. He gives feet to the lame, and he lives in Pandharpur. For the sake of this belly I became a burden on people. Neither parent nor a beggar's alms can keep me; the alms never stop, and they never fill. Those ahead say one thing, but they have no pity. The dog of desire keeps at my heels, and the craving is cruel. What did I do wrong before? I remember nothing behind me. I cannot tell sin from merit; there is no memory of it. I lost myself, like a moth drawn to the lamp. Give me my life back, you saints, you great souls. I have come from far off, through grievous pain. To reach here was the one reason for it all. To meet you is rare; at your feet I have had the sight. Tuka begs the saints, both hands joined. This is no land of mine, no dress of mine; I came wandering by chance. Over whom can I claim any power? Nowhere have I stayed and rested.
What it means
Tukaram takes on the voice of a blind, friendless beggar to dramatize the soul's helplessness on the road to God. The literal blindness, the thorns, the stumbling, the begging door to door, all stand for a life that cannot find its own way and cannot end the recurring sorrow of birth. The dog of desire at his heels and the moth drawn to the lamp name the cravings that destroy him while he forgets his own good. The turn comes when he reaches the saints: the rare meeting at their feet is the one thing the whole hard journey was for, and so, hands folded, he begs not coins but his very life, the help only they and Hari at Pandharpur can give.
Prayers
Direct appeals to God: for protection, guidance, strength, and mercy.
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