பாருலகி லான்மாவின் ஞானம் தேடப்
பலநூல்கள் கற்றறிந்தும் தெளிவில் லாமல்
நேரியலும் நதியதன்நீர் குளியார் தேத்து
நெட்டிடுநீர் கடந்திடுவார் நெறியைக் காணார்
சீரியலும் பற்றற்ற நீரைக் காணார்
தேக்கிவந்து சிதறியநீர்த் தேக்க முண்பார்
ஆரறிவார் அடடாடா அடடா டாடா
அடயோகத் தவலநிலை பதனைத் தானே
Paarulagi laanmaavin gnaanam thedap
palanoolgal katrarindhum thelivil laamal
neriyalum nadhiyadhanneer kuliyaar theththu
nettiduneer kadandiduvaar neriyai kaanaar
seeriyalum patratra neerai kaanaar
thekkivandhu sidariyaneerth thekka munpaar
aararivaar adadaadaa adadaa daadaa
adayogath thavalanilai padhanai thaane.
Seeking, in this earthly world, the soul’s (āṉmā) wisdom (ñāṉam),
though they learn and come to know many books, (still) without clarity;
though they speak in praise, they do not bathe in the river and its water that governs the right way (nēri);
those who cross the long/deep waters do not see the path;
they do not see the excellent water that is without attachment;
they come having heaped it up, yet (then) they spill/scatter the stored water before the reservoir;
O those of sixfold knowing / those possessed of six senses—alas, alas!
this indeed is the fallen/wretched state of base (improper) yoga.
In the world, many hunt for ‘soul-knowledge’ through study, yet remain unclear because they do not enter the living stream of disciplined conduct. They may talk of crossing over, but without that inner purification they cannot find the true way. They do not recognize the ‘pure, unattached water’—the subtle life-fluid/life-force meant to be conserved and refined—and instead they gather it only to waste it. Thus the Siddhar laments: this is what degraded yoga looks like.
The verse contrasts two kinds of knowing: (1) book-knowledge (many texts, many doctrines) and (2) direct clarity born of lived discipline. “Bathe in the river” is not merely moral advice but a Siddhar image for immersion in the current of practice—right conduct (nēri), purification, and embodied sādhana—rather than standing on the bank praising it.
“Water” (nīr) is a deliberate multivalent symbol. On the surface it is the river-water of cleansing; at a yogic–medical level it can point to the body’s vital fluids and energies—prāṇa moving through subtle channels (nāḍi, often punning with “river”), and especially the conserved essence (bindu/virya) that Siddhar yoga treats as a substance to be protected, “stored,” and transformed into higher vitality/clarity (amṛta-like sustenance). The line about heaping up and then scattering the stored water evokes dissipation: sensory leakage, uncontrolled passions, or any practice that accumulates effort but fails in retention/transmutation.
“Crossing the deep waters” can be read as attempting to cross saṃsāra (the ocean of worldly becoming) or attempting advanced yogic crossing (states beyond the senses). The Siddhar’s critique is that without the ‘path’—inner discipline, purification, and conservation of the vital principle—one cannot truly cross, even if one speaks as though one has.
The repeated exclamation (“aṭaṭāṭā…”) functions as lament and mockery, and possibly as a sonic marker: Siddhar texts sometimes insert sounds that are simultaneously colloquial interjection, rhythmic emphasis, and a hint toward mantra-like or breath-sound awareness. The closing names the condition as “aḍayōga” (low/incorrect yoga) leading to “patana” (decline/fall): yoga reduced to talk, display, or fragmented effort, rather than a stable inner alchemy.