As you used the rope in your play, rope me too into your play

namas te ’stu dāmne sphurad-dīpti-dhāmne

Obeisance to the rope that gloriously gleams,
Whose fortune outshines the brightest beams.
That binds the Lord, a feat impossible rare,
Celebrates a thread of love beyond compare.

(Damodarashtakam — Verse 8, Line 1)

My dear Lord, how fortunate are those who can directly take part in your divine pastimes.
When Mother Yashoda bound you—the boundless—she drew even the rope into your intimate play.

O Lord of all, you use even the simplest objects—like a rope or a churning rod—to reveal the greatest truths.
What others would discard, you transform into the very centerpiece of your divine play.
Likewise, please use me—though I am insignificant—in your service.

O my beloved Lord, whatever I do may seem small and unremarkable,
yet if it is done for you and with you, it becomes eternal and full of meaning.
Without connection to you, even the greatest work loses all worth;
with connection to you, even the smallest act shines with eternal significance.

Please, my merciful Lord, engage me in your service.
Lift me above the fleeting pursuits of this world
and grant me the supreme fortune—to be counted among those who, in some way, serve and remember you.
May my life find its highest purpose in staying connected with you,
who never forgets even the least of your servants.