Classic Poem

Now, O Hari, help my honour.
Thou knowest all, Searcher of the inmost heart: no right deeds have I done.
Evil leaves me not, not even for one brief moment's space.
The bundle of the world's deceits I bound and bore upon my head.
Wife, wealth and sons, in this ocean of infatuation, all wisdom and understanding are lost.
Sur the sinner swiftly raise, O Lord, his boat fills fast.