Classic Poem

In truth behold His light, with head bowed low, Dulam.
Drunk with the wine of love: stilled the five, and twenty-five.

Dulam, tis gained by grace: Bhagti's no idle thought.
In quiet ease some find, some stray in restless search.

Dulam, the tree of love in whatever heart it grows.
The five, the twenty-five neath that tree's shade are stilled.

Beads, gifts, fast, pilgrimage, these, Dulam Das, are duties.
They for Bhagti's sake are done, but not for their sakes Bhagti.

Gifts, toils, and pilgrimage may cleanse some sins, Dulam.
To hate the sants is sin, not a thousand plans can cleanse.