Milk is left over from the calves. Water is left over from the fishes, flowers from the bees. How can I worship you, O Siva, with such offal? But it's not for me to despise left-overs, so take what comes, lord of the meeting rivers.
(Basavanna; translated by A.K. Ramanujan)
the eke, the partial eke, and naught except,
jumps out from
the river dwindling away resource manage
naught; wait a little, friend, say a prayer in
some time, the sting of the sun is about to
nestle in any