Born in the hard days of Kali Juga, their deeds are like the crow, though their form be as the peacock.
They walk in evil paths, leaving the Vedas' way; vessels of deception, filled with the mire of Kali Juga.
Robbers, yet men call them servants of Rama: these slaves of gold and wealth and lust.
Among these in the world my rank is first: accursed am I, the scorner of godliness, that pass for the leader of the godly.
The Master is Rama, the evil servant such as I: yet of His own Self's prompting the Treasury of mercy cherished me.