In a cheerful mood, full of gaiety,
I came to Your mandir; as I was
engaged in prayer, I was grabbed
and driven out.

I am of low social class, Lord; why
was I born into a family of
fabric dyers?

I picked my blanket and went to the
back of the mandir; and sat down
there.

As Namdev recited the Glorious
Praises of the Lord: the mandir
turned to face Your humble Saint.