In plain words
From rising out of sleep until you go back to sleep, for the belly you spend beyond limit and without account; your life you pour out on learning, forgetting the lotus-petal-eyed Lord: what great happiness have you gained? Think it over gladly, O man!
Jantūnāṃ narajanma durlabham. Even after taking a human birth, is this what we must earn? Is this what we must achieve? Is this what we must gain? No, no. Our Ānanda is something else. Our goal is something else. Our aim is something else. But forgetting that which is Satya and eternal, we are building our aim upon what is Asatya, transient and impermanent. Worldly learning has to be there too. I am not saying it should not. All this is merely worldly. This is the principle of pravṛtti. But ours is the mark of nivṛtti. What belongs to pravṛtti is transient and impermanent. What belongs to nivṛtti alone is Satya and eternal. So we must try to reach this path of nivṛtti. But what is in books is knowledge. How far does that knowledge work? If you turn that book into your head, the head too becomes dust. The book becomes dust. What is the reason? The fault of company: by the time the knowledge in the book reaches the head, the head too turns into a book. It is not the book's knowledge that we need. The knowledge of the head: that is practical knowledge. If we are to gain practical knowledge, it is not possible by any path other than the spiritual path.
Yad bhāvaṃ tad bhavati. When the faith in your feeling is pure, the result too comes to you pure. In olden days there was a small niche in front of the houses of the rich. All the villagers would light the lamps of their own houses from the lamp in front of the rich man's house and go away. For the belief was that the flame coming from the rich man's house would turn them too into rich men. Keeping to this tradition, in Vrepalle, Yaśodā used to light a lamp in the niche in front of her house. The people of the cowherds' houses would come, light their lamps from it and go. By then Kṛṣṇa had already gone away to Mathurā. Hearing the līlās and the stories of Kṛṣṇa in that Vrepalle, a daughter-in-law newly come there became as if quite mad. By the time I came, Kṛṣṇa had left Vrepalle and gone away to Mathurā, had He not? She kept grieving. Before this, her mother-in-law used to come, light her lamp and go. But whatever Suguṇa's good fortune was, her mother-in-law fell ill with fever.