The one who makes me speak is the only one who knows the secret of these words. I am merely the laborer; I must beg humbly for my meal. Through the hired hand's measure the grain comes and goes, filling and emptying. Panduranga, my father, has become the provider. Like a child playing happily with its parents, I play whatever game they set before me. His are the true cows and buffaloes; with these one may play in the mud. Says Tuka, it is Vitthal who speaks my words.