In plain words
At times the mind keeps running off in many directions. So take this mad monkey of a mind Yourself and grant me Śānti,’ he prayed; and he bundled up all the books he had written and threw them into the Godāvarī. Some sank, some floated. Those that sank were mine, that is, they belonged to the world. He took back only those that floated, holding them to be the grace of Īśvara. No one at all can understand the ways of God. Sūradāsa thought it impossible to know the nature of God. Then he lamented in this way:
Can we ever find You, Kṛṣṇa! Can we ever find You! You are subtler in form than the atom, vaster than the vast; the eighty-four lakh kinds of living beings You never leave for a moment, they say; from atom and speck of dust to blade of grass and twig You shine forth in undivided form, they say; among the great thieves You are the master thief: can we ever find You, Kṛṣṇa!
For all thieves steal only outer things. But You steal even what is kept safe in the heart. ‘Stealer of the citta, Yaśodā's child, Gopāl the butter thief!’ In this way he pleaded with Kṛṣṇa.
Every person must recognise that the inner world and the outer world are bound together and cannot be parted. In this, humanness and divinity are not different in form. What is it that delights on seeing beauty, relishes on seeing food and is enraptured on seeing outer things: the body or the Ātma? Man must, without fail, inquire into these two!