Days & nights
fly past.
Life
comes to an end.
The span of mortals
runs out,
like the water of a piddling stream.
But the fool doing evil deeds
doesn't realize that later
it's bitter for him:
evil for him
the result.
This swarthy woman
[preparing a corpse for cremation]
-- crow-like, enormous --
breaking a thigh & then the other
thigh,
breaking an arm & then the other
arm,
cracking open the head,
like a pot of curds,
she sits with them heaped up beside her.Whoever, unknowing,
makes acquisitions
-- the fool --
returns over & over
to suffering & stress.
So, discerning,
don't make acquisitions.
May I never lie
with my head cracked open
again.
What needs to be done
with firm persistence,
what needs to be done
by someone who hopes for Awakening,
that I will do.
I will not fail.
See: persistence & striving!You show me the path:
the straight,
the plunge into Deathlessness.
I, through sagacity,
will reach it, know it,
as the stream of the Ganges,
the sea.
Shedding five hindrances
so as to reach the unexcelled rest
from the yoke,
taking the Dhamma as mirror
for knowing & seeing myself,
I reflected on this body --
the whole thing,
inside & out,
my own & others'.
How vain & empty it looked!
Just as a fine thoroughbred steed
stumbling, regains its stance,
feeling all the more urgency,
& draws its burden
undaunted.In the same way, remember me:
consummate in vision,
a disciple of the Rightly
Self-awakened One,
the Awakened One's thoroughbred child,
his son.
Men of integrity
have been attended to,
the Dhamma repeatedly
listened to.
Having listened,
I followed the straight way,
the plunge into Deathlessness.Passion for becoming,
having been killed by me,
no further such passion
is found in me.
It neither was
nor will be
nor is found in me
even now.
It's not for sleeping,
the night garlanded
with zodiac stars.
The night, for one who knows,
is for staying awake.If I were to fall from my elephant's shoulder,
and a tusker trampled me,
death in battle would be better for me,
than that I, defeated,
survive.