How marvelous that the one who witnesses everything has his heart dwelling right there. Each one marvels to herself, yet the loving debate never ceases. One dark-cloud-hued beloved, Hari, has drenched them all; their hearts overflow, eager and deep. The one object of love for all of them is Hari, and for his sake they love one another. The four worlds of the blind, the deaf, and the lifeless have been redeemed, and their glory is sung in the ancient texts. Praise from another's lips is sweeter still; in honoring the beloved, there is great tenderness. Each vies to please the other, and the joy of holy company knows no limit. The love of God pervades all movable and immovable creation, making no distinction between intimate and stranger. Near and far are held according to past merit; one must become like Hari to reach Hari. Says Tuka, I have received the blessed leftovers of that feast. The love poured out of me, and when it fell upon my ears, my very life was guarded. With single-minded devotion, I hold those feet within my heart.