Abhanga 2687
You let it touch the body — why so close? What sin's rising have I seen — the dissolution itself. I cannot bear to see a pained serpent — compassion is felt; the venom's pride is fierce. Tukā: good — but I cannot bear it.
The verse
लागों दिलें अंगा । ऐसें कां गा सन्निध ॥१॥
कोण्या पापें उदो केला । तो देखिला प्रळय ॥ध्रु.॥
न देखवे पिडला सर्प । दया दर्प विषाचा ॥२॥
तुका म्हणे भलें । मज तो न वजे साहिलें ॥३॥
Literal translation
You let it touch the body — aisēm kā gā sannidhi (why so close)? By what pāpa (sin) has it udō (risen) — that I have seen the prāḷaya (dissolution). I cannot bear to see a piḍalā sarpa (pained-serpent) — dayā (compassion) — the darpa (pride) of the venom is fierce. Tukā says: very well — but I cannot bear it.
What it means
A short compassionate-protest verse. Lāgōm dilēm angā — aisēm kā gā sannidhi — you let it touch the body — why so close? The bhakta protests an intimacy of suffering that has come too close. Sannidhi — closeness, proximity — why such closeness? The protest is gentle but real.
The dhrūpada: kōṇyā pāpē udō kelā — tō dekhilā prāḷaya — by what sin has it risen — that I have seen the dissolution. Udō (rising-up) — what karmic-rising has produced this? Prāḷaya (cosmic-dissolution) — the bhakta has seen prāḷaya itself in this encounter. The intensity is total.
The second verse contains the verse's heart-image: na dēkhavē piḍalā sarpa — dayā — darpa viṣāñcā — I cannot bear to see a pained-serpent; compassion (is felt); the venom's pride is fierce. The image is precise: a piḍalā sarpa — a wounded/pained snake — is dangerous (its darpa — pride, fierceness — is heightened in pain, its venom is poured-out more violently), but the bhakta cannot bear to see it suffering. Dayā (compassion) is felt even for the suffering-enemy.
The close: bhalē — maja tō na vajē sāhilēm — very well — but I cannot bear it. The bhalē (well, OK) acknowledges that perhaps this has its place; maja tō na vajē sāhilēm — but I, I cannot bear it. The bhakta concedes the cosmic-justice but admits his own emotional-limit.
The image of the pained-serpent may refer to a difficult situation in Tukārām's life — a former-tormentor now suffering, or a foe-now-in-pain — or it may refer more generally to any encounter with the wounded-aggressor whose suffering one still cannot witness comfortably.
For someone today
The verse offers a rare bhakti-stance: compassion even for the pained-aggressor. The bhakta can name the venom's pride is fierce — acknowledging the danger — and yet cannot bear to see the pained-serpent. This is a precise emotional-honesty about the limit of justice-without-mercy. The protest to the protector: why have you let this come so close? — I see prāḷaya in it; compassion arises even for the pained-serpent; very well — but I cannot bear it. The closing-admission is humble; the bhakta does not claim he should bear it, only that he cannot.
Where this applies
- Compassion-for-the-pained-aggressor — bhakti's reach beyond enemy-friend distinction
- The protest-prayer I cannot bear this proximity-of-suffering
- Recognizing one's own emotional-limit honestly: very well — but I cannot bear it
- The image of the pained-serpent as the wounded-dangerous-one