Level and smooth, with all desire cut away, I have become a detached minstrel. The territory of the body has been reclaimed, and I will let no rival enter. Singing of Raghuram is all that remains for us now; the clinging to life, wealth, and kin is finished. The place has been emptied; what is there left to cover? There is no one to be ashamed before, no second person watching. The company of minstrels has estranged us from the world; the old pleasures are gone and the color of devotion has changed entirely. Shame and fear have both been abandoned; the costume is transformed, and we belong to no one. Says Tuka, the One who gave us this garb walks with us, and in the presence of all we stand as one.