Pandhari is my true home, O friend. I sing its songs while grinding grain. Rakhumai, Rukmini, and Satyabhama are my mothers; Panduranga is the father of my natal home. Uddhava, Akrura, Vyasa, and Ambarisha are my kin; I honor brother Narada with love. Garuda is my brother and dear Pundalik is the darling of them all. I have a vast family of saints and great souls whom I remember always in my songs. Nivritti, Dnyanadeva, Sopan, and Changdev are mine; Namadeva is my dearest companion. Nagoji, Mitra, Narhari the goldsmith, Rohidas, Kabir, and Soyirabai are all my own. Parso Bhagavat, Surdas, and Sawata I sing of, even the ones I do not know by name. Chokhamela the saint is dear to my very life; not a moment passes without remembering them. Eknath Janardana is the life of my life, and so are Patkar, Kanhaya, and Mirabai. And all the other saints and great sages, my soul rests at their feet. In joy I sing these verses for the pilgrims going to Pandhari. Says Tuka, Vitthal is my mother and father; in happiness, O friend, let us dwell in this household of devotion.