In plain words
The cātaka bird and the drop of Svāti rain
The pure mind that is God's dwelling is holy to every devotee … in the mind of man one must bring forth thoughts that are holy, lasting and true. Whoever brings forth such holy feelings within himself, his birth alone is worthwhile. The cātaka bird suffers many hardships for a drop of Svāti rain. As soon as it sees the dark clouds, it begins its vow. There is all the water it needs on this earth. But this cātaka does not want this muddy water. It wants only this pure raindrop that falls from the cloud, the Svāti drop of the Svāti season; it does not want standing water or flowing water. It is not in the least afraid of the fearful thunder. It does not shrink from the dazzling lightning. Without trembling, without flinching, unmoving, in a steady mind it keeps its tapas for the drops from the cloud. For that drop of water it shows its joy, crying “pī-pī”. This cātaka is the very picture of Prīti. A true devotee must practise such tapas. He must keep such a vow. To taste the joy he longs for he must do this hard sādhana; he must not ruin his holy life for the world's praise, for comforts, for the things of the senses, or for honour and standing. The golden life of man must be tested on the ‘touchstone’ of God's name. Not taking this easy and lovely path, man takes the hardest path and makes his precious life useless. Man is not merely man. Man … God. Little by little he wastes the Divinity within him in the things of the senses. So he must set the divine feeling that has sprung up in him on the sāttvic path.
The ant
Everyone only says the words “God, God”; but is he making the effort it takes to know the word “God”? Another name for goodness is God. How much of that goodness is in us? Without it, how can this Divinity be understood? For everything one needs one's own experience. In the deep-flowing waters of the Gaṅgā a little fish plays happily, floating on the surface. The fish that knows how to swim has no need to know how deep it is. But even an elephant with its huge body is swept away when it plunges into the Gaṅgā. One must save oneself from the current and recognise the strength and skill by which that very current carries one safely. When sugar is mixed with earth, the little ant separates the sugar out. It is because the ant knows the taste of sugar that it separates the sugar from the sand.