The Garment of Service

Poetic Rendering

When the crow soils the gold,
does it become a king’s crown?
Can filth ever shape raw gold
into an ornament worthy of a throne?
So, O Kudalasangamadeva,
let me seek no false upliftment
from the hands of the unworthy.
Make me instead
the sandals at Your holy feet
simple, humble, ever-serving,
ever-close to You.
Grant me this grace.

Spiritual Context

Interpretation

The Cosmic Reality

Shatsthala

Practical Integration

Modern Application

Essence

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