Poem 112

In plain words

As an infant, groping and groping for its mother's embrace, cries aloud; as a cow, for the calf that has strayed from the herd, lows ‘ambā’; as a wife, when her husband is gone, faint with the pain of separation, shrinks into corner after corner and moans; as one in utter poverty, grown weak with hunger, frets and weeps for a meal: so give up everything, think on Swami, and saying ‘Sai, Sai’, find your ease.