Confession of nothingness, the body as a cage
Original Marathi from the Tukaram Gatha · About Sant Tukaram
मराठी मूळ
अल्प भाव अल्प मती । अल्प आयुष्य नाहीं हातीं । अपराधाची वोिळलों मूर्ती । अहो वेदमूर्ती परियेसा ॥1॥
किती दोषा देऊं परिहार । गुणदोषें मिळलें अंतर । आदि वर्तमान भविष्याकार। गेला अंतपार ऐसें नाहीं ॥ध्रु.॥
विविध कर्म चौयाशी फेरा । त्रिविध भोग या शरीरा । कर्मकोठार पांजरा । जन्मजरामरणसांटवण ॥2॥
जीवा नाहीं कुडीचें लाहातें । यें भिन्न पंच भूतें । रचतें खचतें संचितें । असार रितें फलकट ॥3॥
पुत्र पत्नी सहोदर । मायबाप गोताचा पसर । मिळतां काष्ठें लोटतां पूर । आदळीं दूर होती खलाळीं ॥4॥
ह्मणोनि नासावें अज्ञान । इतुलें करीं कृपादान । कृपाळु तूं जनादनन । धरूनि चरण तुका विनवी ॥5॥
Tukaram Gatha (Marathi Wikisource)
English Translation
My devotion is slight, my intellect is slight, my lifespan is short and not in my hands. I am an embodiment of offenses. O Lord of the Vedas, please listen. How many faults can I atone for? Virtues and faults have filled the space within. Past, present, and future stretch on; there is no end in sight. Through varied karmas and eighty-four lakh births, the body endures threefold suffering. The body is a storehouse of karma, a cage of birth, old age, and death. The soul gets nothing lasting from this body, which is made of five separate elements, assembled and dismantled by accumulated deeds, hollow and fruitless. Son, wife, siblings, parents, and the entire spread of relations are like logs meeting in a flood; they collide and are swept apart in the torrent. Therefore destroy my ignorance; grant me this one gift of mercy. You are compassionate, O Janardana. Says Tuka, I clasp Your feet and plead.
We ask forgiveness for any inaccuracies in rendering Tukaram ji’s original Marathi.
In Plain Words
My feeling is small, my mind is small, my life is short and not in my hands. I have become an image made of offenses. O embodiment of the Vedas, please listen. How many faults can I make up for? Virtue and fault together have filled the space within me. Beginning, present, and what is to come stretch on with no end in sight. Through varied deeds and eighty-four lakh births, the body bears its threefold suffering. The body is a storehouse of karma, a cage of birth, old age, and death. The soul gains nothing lasting from this body, made of five separate elements, built up and pulled down by past deeds, empty, useless, husk. Son, wife, brother, mother, father, the whole spread of kin, are like logs that meet when the flood drives them together, then strike and are flung apart in the rushing water. So destroy my ignorance; grant me this one gift of mercy. You are merciful, Janardana. Tuka says: I hold your feet and plead.
What it means
Tukaram empties himself out before God, owning that his feeling, his understanding, and even his lifespan are small and beyond his control, until he is little more than a heap of offenses. He looks at the body coldly: a storehouse of karma and a cage of birth, aging, and death, assembled and dismantled out of five elements, from which the soul gains nothing that lasts. His image for family is unsparing: kin are driftwood swept together by the flood, colliding for a moment and then torn apart, no permanent bond at all. He does not ask to keep any of it. His single request is mercy in one precise form, the destruction of his ignorance, made while clasping the feet of the compassionate Lord.
Confession and Sin
Raw, unflinching accounts of personal failure, weakness, and the weight of sin.
More in this theme →