My senses have sat down at Vitthal's feet and, being weary, will not rise. What power do I have against them now? I have become weak and strengthless. A burnt cloth looks whole in its shape, but what is its real substance? In its laziness, the eye does not look at what belongs to it; it has seen everything as one single form. All distinctions of honor and dishonor have come to a stop; who is the fool now? In that state there is neither light nor darkness, only one undivided existence; what room is there for sin or virtue? Nothing pleases except Vitthal; all separate forms have dissolved. Worldly power, status, convention, and custom are gone; desire, greed, and illusion have departed. The news of pleasure and pain is no longer heard; I have grown distant from all that. Having become free of the sense of I and You, desireless, I remain in my own true place.