The four Vedas sing His praises, yet He is bound by the hands of milkmaids. The milkmaids tie Him by the waist, and the Lord of the discus bows at their feet. He enters their homes to steal butter, slipping in through any gap He finds. He enters and eats the fresh butter, leaving the doors exactly as they were. Inside and outside, He is the same. Therefore His thievery is never detected. Those who try and try cannot catch Him by cunning. Only those who know the secret can catch Him: single-minded women waiting alone in ambush. When they are still, empty of self, and absorbed in Krishna's meditation, He who cannot be held even for a moment by the yogis' concentration is held by those simple milkmaids. He comes pleading to them. The clever may die trying, yet He eludes them. Says Tuka, there is no need to spend armies of wealth. Only one thing is needed: pure devotion.