ထေရဂါထာပါဠိ

I don’t see a healer who can pull out my dart of doubt without a lance or some other blade.

Without knife or wound, who will pull out this dart that’s stuck inside me, without harming any part of my body?

He really would be the Lord of the Dhamma, the best one to cure the damage of poison; when I have fallen into deep waters, he would show me his hand and the shore.

I’ve plunged into a lake, and I can’t wash off the mud and dirt. It’s full of deceit, jealousy, aggression, and dullness and drowsiness.

Like a thundering cloud of restlessness, like a stormcloud of fetters; lustful thoughts are winds that sweep off a person with bad views.

The streams flow everywhere; a weed springs up and remains. Who will block the streams? Who will cut the weed?”

“Venerable sir, build a dam to block the streams. Don’t let your mind-made streams cut you down suddenly like a tree.”

That is how, when I was full of fear, seeking the far shore from the near, my shelter was the Teacher whose weapon is wisdom, frequented by the Saṅgha of seers.

As I was being swept away, he gave me a strong, simple ladder, made of the heartwood of Dhamma, and he said to me: “Do not fear.”

I climbed the tower of mindfulness meditation, and checked back down at people delighting in substantial reality, as I had obsessed over in the past.

When I saw the path, as I was embarking on the ship, without fixating on the self, I saw the supreme landing-place.

The dart that arises in oneself, and that which stems from the leash to existence: he taught the supreme path for the canceling of these.

For a long time it had lain within me; for a long time it was fixed in me: the Buddha cast aside the knot, curing the damage of poison.

Verses of the Senior Monks 16.4 The Book of the Twenties Chapter One Raṭṭhapāla “See this fancy puppet, a body built of sores, diseased, obsessed over, in which nothing lasts at all.

See this fancy figure, with its gems and earrings; it is bones swathed in skin, made pretty by its clothes.

Rouged feet and powdered face may be enough to beguile a fool, but not a seeker of the far shore.

Hair in eight braids and eyeshadow may be enough to beguile a fool, but not a seeker of the far shore.

A rotting body all adorned like a freshly painted makeup box may be enough to beguile a fool, but not a seeker of the far shore.

The hunter laid his snare, but the deer didn’t spring the trap. I’ve eaten the bait and now I go, leaving the trapper to lament.

The hunter’s snare is broken, but the deer didn’t spring the trap. I’ve eaten the bait and now I go, leaving the deer-hunter to grieve.”

“I see rich people in the world who, because of delusion, <j>give not the wealth they’ve earned. Greedily, they hoard their riches, yearning for ever more sensual pleasures.

A king who conquered the earth by force, ruling the land from sea to sea, unsatisfied with the near shore of the ocean, would still yearn for the further shore.

Not just the king, but others too, reach death not rid of craving. They leave the body still wanting, for in this world sensual pleasures never satisfy.

Relatives lament, their hair disheveled, saying ‘Ah! Alas! They’re not immortal!’ They take out the body wrapped in a shroud, heap up a pyre, and burn it there.

It’s poked with stakes while being burnt, in just a single cloth, all wealth gone. Relatives, friends, and companions can’t help you when you’re dying.

Heirs take your riches, while beings fare on according to their deeds. Riches don’t follow you when you die; nor do children, wife, wealth, nor kingdom.

Longevity isn’t gained by riches, nor does wealth banish old age; for the attentive say this life is short, it’s perishable and not eternal.

The rich and the poor feel its touch; the fool and the attentive one feel it too. But the fool lies stricken by their own folly, while the attentive don’t tremble at the touch.

Therefore wisdom’s much better than wealth, since by wisdom <j>you reach consummation in this life. But if because of delusion <j>you don’t reach consummation, you’ll do evil deeds in life after life.

One who enters a womb and the world beyond, will transmigrate from one life to the next. While someone of little wisdom, <j>placing faith in them, also enters a womb and the world beyond.

As a bandit caught in a window is punished for his own bad deeds; so after departing, in the world beyond, people are punished for their own bad deeds.

Sensual pleasures are diverse, sweet, delightful; appearing in disguise they disturb the mind. Seeing danger in sensual stimulations, I went forth, O King.

As fruit falls from a tree, so the sons of Manu fall, young and old, when the body breaks up. Seeing this, too, I went forth, O King; it’s a sure bet that the ascetic life is better.”

“I went forth out of faith joining the victor’s dispensation. My going forth wasn’t wasted; I enjoy my food free of debt.

I saw sensual pleasures as burning, gold as a cutting blade, conception in a womb as suffering, and the hells as very fearful.

Knowing this danger, I was struck with a sense of urgency. I was stabbed, but then I found peace, attaining the end of defilements.

I’ve served the Teacher and fulfilled the Buddha’s instructions. The heavy burden is laid down, the leash to existence is eradicated.

I’ve attained the goal for the sake of which I went forth from the lay life to homelessness— the ending of all fetters.”

Verses of the Senior Monks 16.5 The Book of the Twenties Chapter One Māluṅkyaputta (2nd) When you see a sight, mindfulness is lost as you focus on a pleasant feature. Experiencing it with a mind full of desire, you keep clinging to it.

Many feelings grow arising from sights. The mind is damaged by covetousness and cruelty. Heaping up suffering like this, you’re said to be far from extinguishment.

When you hear a sound, mindfulness is lost as you focus on a pleasant feature. Experiencing it with a mind full of desire, you keep clinging to it.

Many feelings grow arising from sounds. The mind is damaged by covetousness and cruelty. Heaping up suffering like this, you’re said to be far from extinguishment.

When you smell an odor, mindfulness is lost as you focus on a pleasant feature. Experiencing it with a mind full of desire, you keep clinging to it.

Many feelings grow arising from smells. The mind is damaged by covetousness and cruelty. Heaping up suffering like this, you’re said to be far from extinguishment.

When you enjoy a taste, mindfulness is lost as you focus on a pleasant feature. Experiencing it with a mind full of desire, you keep clinging to it.

Many feelings grow arising from tastes. The mind is damaged by covetousness and cruelty. Heaping up suffering like this, you’re said to be far from extinguishment.

When you sense a touch, mindfulness is lost as you focus on a pleasant feature. Experiencing it with a mind full of desire, you keep clinging to it.

Many feelings grow arising from touches. The mind is damaged by covetousness and cruelty. Heaping up suffering like this, you’re said to be far from extinguishment.

When you know an idea, mindfulness is lost as you focus on a pleasant feature. Experiencing it with a mind full of desire, you keep clinging to it.

Many feelings grow arising from ideas. The mind is damaged by covetousness and cruelty. Heaping up suffering like this, you’re said to be far from extinguishment.

There’s no desire for sights when you see a sight with mindfulness. Experiencing it with a mind free of desire, you don’t keep clinging to it.

Even as you see a sight and undergo a feeling, you wear away, you don’t heap up: that’s how to live mindfully. Eroding suffering like this, you’re said to be in the presence of extinguishment.

There’s no desire for sounds when you hear a sound with mindfulness. Experiencing it with a mind free of desire, you don’t keep clinging to it.

Even as you hear a sound and undergo a feeling, you wear away, you don’t heap up: that’s how to live mindfully. Eroding suffering like this, you’re said to be in the presence of extinguishment.

There’s no desire for odors when you smell an odor with mindfulness. Experiencing it with a mind free of desire, you don’t keep clinging to it.

Even as you smell an odor and undergo a feeling, you wear away, you don’t heap up: that’s how to live mindfully. Eroding suffering like this, you’re said to be in the presence of extinguishment.

There’s no desire for tastes when you enjoy a taste with mindfulness. Experiencing it with a mind free of desire, you don’t keep clinging to it.

Even as you savor a taste and undergo a feeling, you wear away, you don’t heap up: that’s how to live mindfully. Eroding suffering like this, you’re said to be in the presence of extinguishment.

There’s no desire for touches when you sense a touch with mindfulness. Experiencing it with a mind free of desire, you don’t keep clinging to it.

Even as you sense a touch and get familiar with how it feels, you wear away, you don’t heap up: that’s how to live mindfully. Eroding suffering like this, you’re said to be in the presence of extinguishment.

There’s no desire for ideas when you know an idea with mindfulness. Experiencing it with a mind free of desire, you don’t keep clinging to it.

Even as you know an idea and get familiar with how it feels, you wear away, you don’t heap up: that’s how to live mindfully. Eroding suffering like this, you’re said to be in the presence of extinguishment.

Verses of the Senior Monks 16.6 The Book of the Twenties Chapter One Sela “O Blessed One, your body’s perfect, you’re radiant, handsome, lovely to behold; golden colored, with teeth so white; you’re strong.

The characteristics of a handsome man, the marks of a great man, are all found on your body.

Your eyes are clear, your face is fair, you’re formidable, upright, majestic. In the midst of the Saṅgha of ascetics, you dazzle like the sun.

You’re a mendicant fine to see, with skin that shines like lustrous gold. But with such excellent appearance, what do you want with the ascetic life?

You’re fit to be a king, a wheel-turning monarch, chief of charioteers, victorious in the four quarters, lord of the Black Plum Tree Land.

Aristocrats, nobles, and kings ought follow your rule. Gotama, may you reign as king of kings, lord of mankind!”

“I am a king, Sela”, said the Buddha to Sela, “the supreme king of the teaching. By the teaching I roll forth the wheel which cannot be rolled back.”

“You claim to be awakened,” said Sela the brahmin, “the supreme king of the teaching. ‘I roll forth the teaching’: so you say, Gotama.

Then who is your general, the disciple who follows the Teacher’s way? Who keeps rolling the wheel of the teaching you rolled forth?”

“By me the wheel was rolled forth,” said the Buddha, “the supreme wheel of the teaching. Sāriputta, taking after the Realized One, keeps it rolling on.

I have known what should be known, and developed what should be developed, and given up what should be given up: and so, brahmin, I am a Buddha.

Dispel your doubt in me— make up your mind, brahmin! The sight of a Buddha is hard to find again.

I am a Buddha, brahmin, the supreme surgeon, one of those whose appearance in the world is hard to find again.

A manifestation of divinity, unequaled, crusher of Māra’s army; having subdued all my opponents, I rejoice, fearing nothing from any quarter.”

“Pay heed, sirs, to what is spoken by the Clear-eyed One. The surgeon, the great hero, roars like a lion in the jungle.

A manifestation of divinity, unequaled, crusher of Māra’s army; who would not be inspired by him, even one born in a dark class?

Those who wish may follow me; those who don’t may go. Right here, I’ll go forth in his presence, the one of such outstanding wisdom.”

“Sir, if you endorse the teaching of the Buddha, we’ll also go forth in his presence, the one of such outstanding wisdom.”

“These three hundred brahmins with cupped palms held up, ask: ‘May we lead the spiritual life in your presence, Blessed One?’”

“The spiritual life is well explained,” said the Buddha, “apparent in the present life, immediately effective. Here the going forth isn’t in vain for one who trains with diligence.”

“This is the eighth day since we went for refuge, O Clear-eyed One. In these seven days, Blessed One, we’ve become tamed in your teaching.

You are the Buddha, you are the Teacher, you are the sage who has overcome Māra; you have cut off the underlying tendencies, you’ve crossed over, and you bring humanity across.

You have transcended attachments, your defilements are shattered; like a lion free of grasping, with fear and dread given up.

These three hundred mendicants stand with cupped palms raised. Stretch out your feet, great hero: let these giants bow to the Teacher.”

Verses of the Senior Monks 16.7 The Book of the Twenties Chapter One Kāḷigodhāputtabhaddiya I rode on an elephant’s neck, wearing luxurious clothes. I ate boiled fine rice with pure meat sauce.

Today I am fortunate, persistent, happy with the scraps in my bowl: Bhaddiya son of Godhā practices absorption without grasping.

Wearing rags, persistent, happy with the scraps in my bowl: Bhaddiya son of Godhā practices absorption without grasping.

Living on almsfood, persistent, happy with the scraps in my bowl: Bhaddiya son of Godhā practices absorption without grasping.

Possessing only three robes, persistent, happy with the scraps in my bowl: Bhaddiya son of Godhā practices absorption without grasping.

Wandering for alms indiscriminately, persistent, happy with the scraps in my bowl: Bhaddiya son of Godhā practices absorption without grasping.

Sitting alone, persistent, happy with the scraps in my bowl: Bhaddiya son of Godhā practices absorption without grasping.

Eating only what’s put in the alms-bowl, persistent, happy with the scraps in my bowl: Bhaddiya son of Godhā practices absorption without grasping.

Never eating too late, persistent, happy with the scraps in my bowl: Bhaddiya son of Godhā practices absorption without grasping.

Living in the wilderness, persistent, happy with the scraps in my bowl: Bhaddiya son of Godhā practices absorption without grasping.

Living at the foot of a tree, persistent, happy with the scraps in my bowl: Bhaddiya son of Godhā practices absorption without grasping.

Living in the open, persistent, happy with the scraps in my bowl: Bhaddiya son of Godhā practices absorption without grasping.

Living in a charnel ground, persistent, happy with the scraps in my bowl: Bhaddiya son of Godhā practices absorption without grasping.

Accepting whatever seat is offered, persistent, happy with the scraps in my bowl: Bhaddiya son of Godhā practices absorption without grasping.

Not lying down to sleep, persistent, happy with the scraps in my bowl: Bhaddiya son of Godhā practices absorption without grasping.

Few in wishes, persistent, happy with the scraps in my bowl: Bhaddiya son of Godhā practices absorption without grasping.

Content, persistent, happy with the scraps in my bowl: Bhaddiya son of Godhā practices absorption without grasping.

Secluded, persistent, happy with the scraps in my bowl: Bhaddiya son of Godhā practices absorption without grasping.

Aloof, persistent, happy with the scraps in my bowl: Bhaddiya son of Godhā practices absorption without grasping.

Energetic, persistent, happy with the scraps in my bowl: Bhaddiya son of Godhā practices absorption without grasping.

Giving up a hundred ounces of bronze, and a hundred grains of gold, I took a bowl made of clay: this is my second initiation.

I used to live in a citadel with walls so high, with battlements strong and gates, all guarded by swordsmen— and yet I was afraid.

Today I am fortunate, free of cowardice, with fear and dread given up. Bhaddiya son of Godhā has plunged into the forest and practices absorption.

Established in the entire spectrum of ethics, developing mindfulness and wisdom, gradually I attained the ending of all fetters.

Verses of the Senior Monks 16.8 The Book of the Twenties Chapter One Aṅgulimāla “While walking, ascetic, you say ‘I’ve stopped.’ And I have stopped, but you tell me I’ve not. I’m asking you this, ascetic: how is it you’ve stopped and I have not?”

“Aṅgulimāla, I have forever stopped— I’ve laid aside violence toward all creatures. But you can’t stop yourself <j>from harming living creatures; that’s why I’ve stopped, but you have not.”

“Oh, at long last a renowned great seer, an ascetic has followed me into this deep wood. Now that I’ve heard your verse on Dhamma, I shall discard a thousand evils.”

With these words, <j>the bandit hurled his sword and weapons down a cliff into an abyss. He venerated the Holy One’s feet, and requested the going forth <j>from the Buddha right away.

Then the Buddha, the compassionate great seer, the Teacher of the world with its gods, said to him, “Come, monk!” And with that he became a monk.

“He who once was heedless, but turned to heedfulness, shines upon this world, like the moon freed from clouds.

Someone whose bad deed is supplanted by the good, shines upon this world, like the moon freed from clouds.

A young mendicant devoted to the Buddha’s teaching, shines upon this world, like the moon freed from clouds.

May even my enemies <j>hear a Dhamma talk! May even my enemies <j>devote themselves to the Buddha’s teaching! May even my enemies associate with those good men who establish others in the Dhamma!

May even my enemies <j>hear Dhamma at the right time, from those who teach acceptance, praising acquiescence; and may they follow that path!

For then they’d never wish harm upon myself or others. Having arrived at ultimate peace, they’d look after creatures firm and frail.

For while irrigators guide water, fletchers bend arrows straight, and carpenters bend timber straight, the astute tame themselves.

Some tame by using the rod, some with goads, and some with whips. But the unaffected one tamed me without rod or sword.

My name is ‘Harmless’, though I used to be harmful. The name I bear today is true, for I do no harm to anyone.

I used to be a bandit, the notorious Aṅgulimāla. Swept away in a great flood, I went to the Buddha for refuge.

I used to have blood on my hands, the notorious Aṅgulimāla. See the refuge I’ve found— the leash to existence is eradicated.

I’ve done many of the sort of deeds that lead to a bad destination. The result of my deeds has already struck me, so I enjoy my food free of debt.

Fools and simpletons devote themselves to negligence. But the wise protect diligence as their best treasure.

Don’t devote yourself to negligence, or delight in erotic intimacy. For if you’re diligent and practice absorption, you’ll attain ultimate happiness.

It was welcome, not unwelcome, the advice I got was good. Of the well-explained teachings, I arrived at the best.

It was welcome, not unwelcome, the advice I got was good. I’ve attained the three knowledges, and fulfilled the Buddha’s instructions.”

“In the wilderness, at a tree’s root, on mountains, or in caves— it used to be that wherever I stood, my mind was anxious.

But now I lie down happily and stand up happily, I live my life happily, out of Māra’s reach; the Teacher had sympathy for me.

I used to be of brahmin birth, highborn on both sides, now I’m a son of the Holy One, the Teacher, King of Dhamma.

I am rid of craving, free of grasping, my sense doors are guarded and well-restrained. I’ve destroyed the root of gloom, and attained the ending of defilements.

I’ve served the Teacher and fulfilled the Buddha’s instructions. The heavy burden is laid down, the leash to existence is eradicated.”

Verses of the Senior Monks 16.9 The Book of the Twenties Chapter One Anuruddha Leaving my mother and father behind, as well as sisters, kinsmen, and brothers; having given up the five sensual stimuli, Anuruddha practices absorption.

Surrounded by song and dance, awakened by cymbals and gongs, he did not find purification while delighting in Māra’s domain.

But he has gone beyond all that, and delights in the Buddha’s teaching. Having crossed over the entire flood, Anuruddha practices absorption.

Sights, sounds, tastes, smells, and touches so delightful: having crossed over these as well, Anuruddha practices absorption.

Returning from almsround, alone, without partner, seeking rags from the dust heap, Anuruddha is without defilements.

The thoughtful sage selected rags from the dust heap; he picked them up, washed, dyed, and wore them; Anuruddha is without defilements.

The principles of someone who has many wishes and is not content, who socializes and is conceited, are wicked and corrupting.

But someone who is mindful, few of wishes, content and untroubled, delighting in seclusion, joyful, always resolute and energetic;

their principles are skillful, on the side of awakening; they are without defilements— so said the great seer.

“Knowing my thoughts, the supreme Teacher in the world came to me in a mind-made body, using his psychic power.

He taught me more than I had thought of. The Buddha who loves non-proliferation taught me non-proliferation.

Understanding that teaching, I happily did his bidding. I’ve attained the three knowledges, and have fulfilled the Buddha’s instructions.

For the last fifty-five years I have not lain down to sleep. Twenty-five years have passed since I eradicated drowsiness.”

“There was no more breathing for the unaffected one of steady heart. Imperturbable, committed to peace, the Clear-eyed One was fully quenched.

He put up with painful feelings without flinching. The liberation of his heart was like the extinguishing of a lamp.”

“Now these touches and the other four are the last to be experienced by the sage; nor will there be other phenomena since the Buddha was fully quenched.

O Penelope, weaver of the web— there’s no more abodes in the heavenly host. Transmigration through births is finished, now there’ll be no more future lives.”

“The mendicant by whom the galaxy with the age of the Divinity are known in an hour— that master of psychic ability sees the gods at the time they pass away and are reborn.”

“In the past I was Annabhāra, a poor carrier of fodder. I practiced as an ascetic, the renowned Upariṭṭha.

Then I was reborn in the Sakyan clan, where I was known as ‘Anuruddha’. Surrounded by song and dance, I was awakened by cymbals and gongs.

Then I saw the Buddha, the Teacher, fearing nothing from any quarter; filling my mind with confidence in him, I went forth to homelessness.

I know my past lives, the places I used to live. I was born as Sakka, and stayed among the thirty-three gods.

Seven times I was a king of men ruling a kingdom, victorious in the four quarters, lord of the Black Plum Tree Land. Without rod or sword, I governed by principle.

Seven from here, seven from there— fourteen transmigrations in all. I shall remember my past lives: at that time I stayed in the realm of the gods.

I have gained complete tranquility in immersion with five factors. Peaceful, serene, my clairvoyance is purified.

Steady in five-factored absorption, I know the passing away and rebirth of beings, their coming and going, their lives in this state and that.

I’ve served the Teacher and fulfilled the Buddha’s instructions. The heavy burden is laid down, the leash to existence is eradicated.

In the Vajjian village of Veḷuva, my life will come to an end. Beneath a thicket of bamboos, being undefiled, I will be fully extinguished.”

Verses of the Senior Monks 16.10 The Book of the Twenties Chapter One Pārāsariya (3rd) This thought came to the ascetic in the forest full of flowers, as he was seated alone meditating in seclusion:

“The behavior of the mendicants these days seems different from when the protector of the world, the best of men, was still here.

Their robes were only for covering the private parts, and protection from the cold and wind. They ate in moderation, content with whatever they were offered.

Whether food was fine or coarse, a little or a lot, they ate only for sustenance, without greed or gluttony.

They weren’t so very eager for the requisites of life, such as tonics and other necessities, as they were for the ending of defilements.

In the wilderness, at a tree’s root, in caves and caverns, fostering seclusion, they lived with that as their final goal.

They were used to simple things, unburdensome, gentle, not pompous at heart, unsullied, not scurrilous, their thoughts were intent on the goal.

That’s why they inspired confidence, in their movements, eating, and practice; their deportment was as smooth as a stream of oil.

With the utter ending of all defilements, those senior monks have now been quenched. They were great meditators and great benefactors— there are few like them today.

With the ending of good principles and understanding, the victor’s teaching, full of all excellent qualities, falls apart.

This is the season for bad principles and defilements. Those who are ready for seclusion are all that’s left of the true Dhamma.

As they grow, the defilements possess most people; they play with fools, it seems to me, like monsters with the mad.

Overcome by defilements, they run here and there among the bases for defilement, as if they had declared war on themselves.

Having forsaken the true teaching, they argue with each other. Following wrong views they think, ‘This is better.’

They cut off their wealth, children, and wife to go forth. But then they do what they shouldn’t, for the sake of a measly spoon of almsfood.

They eat until their bellies are full, and then they lie to sleep on their backs. When they wake up, they keep on chatting, the kind of talk the Teacher criticized.

Valuing all the arts and crafts, they train themselves in them. Not being settled internally, they think, ‘This is the goal of the ascetic life.’

They provide clay, oil, and talcum powder, water, lodgings, and food for householders, expecting more in return.

And in addition, tooth-picks of white fig, flowers, food to eat, well-cooked almsfood, mangoes and myrobalans.

In medicine they are like doctors, in business like householders, in makeup like prostitutes, in sovereignty like aristocrats.

Cheats, frauds, false witnesses, sly: using multiple plans, they enjoy things of the flesh.

Pursuing shams, contrivances, and plans, by such means they accumulate a lot of wealth for the sake of their own livelihood.

They assemble the community for business rather than Dhamma. They teach the Dhamma to others for gain, not for the goal.

Those barred from the Saṅgha quarrel over the Saṅgha’s property. Lacking conscience, they do not care that they live on the earnings of others.

Some with shaven head and robe are not devoted to practice, but wish only to be honored, besotted with property and reverence.

When things have come to this, it’s not easy these days to realize what has not yet been realized, or to preserve what has been realized.

When shoeless on a thorny path, one would walk very mindfully; that’s how a sage should walk in the village.

Remembering the meditators of old, and recollecting their conduct, even in the latter days, it’s still possible to realize freedom from death.”

That is what the ascetic, whose faculties were fully developed, said in the sāl tree grove. The brahmin, the seer, became fully extinguished, putting an end to all future lives.

Verses of the Senior Monks 17.1 The Book of the Thirties Chapter One Phussa Seeing many who inspire confidence, evolved and well-restrained, the seer of the Paṇḍara clan, asked the one known as Phussa:

“In future times, what desire and motivation and behavior will people have? Please answer my question.”

“Listen to my words, O seer known as a Paṇḍara, and remember them carefully, I will describe the future.

In the future many will be angry and hostile, offensive, stubborn, and devious, jealous, holding divergent views.

Imagining they understand <j>the depths of the teaching, they resort to the near shore. Superficial and disrespectful toward the teaching, they lack respect for one another.

In the future many dangers will arise in the world. Idiots will defile the Dhamma that was taught so well.

Though bereft of good qualities, unlearned prattlers, too sure of themselves, will become powerful in running Saṅgha proceedings.

Though possessing good qualities, the conscientious and unbiased, <j>acting in the proper spirit, will become weak in running Saṅgha proceedings.

In the future, simpletons will accept currency and gold, fields and land, goats and sheep, and bonded servants, male and female.

Fools finding fault in others, but unsteady in their own ethics, will wander about, insolent, like cantankerous beasts.

They’ll be haughty, wrapped in robes of blue; deceivers and flatterers, pompous and fake, they’ll wander as if they were noble ones.

With hair sleeked back with oil, fickle, their eyes painted with eyeshadow, they’ll travel on the high-road, wrapped in robes of ivory color.

The deep-dyed ocher robe, worn without disgust by the free, they will come to loathe, besotted by white clothes.

They’ll want lots of possessions, and be lazy, lacking energy. Weary of the forest, they’ll stay within villages.

Being unrestrained, they’ll keep company with those who acquire profit, and who always enjoy wrong livelihood, following their example.

They won’t respect those who don’t get lots of stuff, and they won’t associate with the attentive, even though they’re very amiable.

Disparaging their own banner, dyed a vermilion color, some will wear the white banner of those of other religions.

Then they’ll have no respect for the ocher robe. The mendicants will not reflect on the nature of the ocher robe.

This awful lack of reflection was unthinkable to the elephant, who was overcome by suffering, inflicted by an arrow strike.

Then the six-tusked elephant, seeing the deep-dyed banner of the perfected ones, straight away spoke these verses connected with the goal.

‘One who, not free of stains themselves, would wear the robe stained in ocher, bereft of self-control and truth: they are not worthy of the ocher robe.

One who’s purged all their stains, steady in ethics, possessing truth and self-control: they are truly worthy of the ocher robe.’

Devoid of virtue, a simpleton, wild, doing what they like, their minds astray, indolent: they are not worthy of the ocher robe.

One accomplished in ethics, free of greed, serene, their heart’s intention pure: they are truly worthy of the ocher robe.

The haughty, insolent fool, who has no ethics at all, is worthy of a white robe— what use is an ocher robe for them?

In the future, monks and nuns with corrupt hearts, lacking regard for others, will disparage those with hearts of loving-kindness.

Though trained in wearing the robe by senior monks, simpletons will not listen, wild, doing what they like.

With that kind of attitude to training, those fools won’t respect each other, or take any notice of their mentors, like a wild colt with its charioteer.

Even so, in the future, this will be the practice of monks and nuns when the latter days have come.

Before this frightening future arrives, be easy to admonish, courteous in speech, and respect one another.

Have hearts of love and compassion, and please do keep your precepts. Be energetic, resolute, and always staunchly vigorous.

Seeing negligence as fearful, and diligence as a sanctuary, develop the eightfold path, realizing the state free of death.” …

Verses of the Senior Monks 17.2 The Book of the Thirties Chapter One Sāriputta “One who’s mindful <j>as per their conduct and mindfulness, diligent <j>as per their intentions and meditation, happy inside, serene, solitary, contented: that is what they call a mendicant.

When eating fresh or dried food, one shouldn’t be overly replete. A mendicant should wander mindfully, with empty stomach, taking limited food.

Four or five mouthfuls before you’re full, drink some water; this is enough for a resolute mendicant to live in comfort.

If they cover themselves with a robe that’s allowable and fit for purpose; this is enough for a resolute mendicant to live in comfort.

When sitting cross-legged, the rain doesn’t fall on the knees; this is enough for a resolute mendicant to live in comfort.”

“When you’ve seen happiness as suffering, and suffering as a dart, and that there’s nothing between the two— what keeps you in the world? <j>What would you become?

Thinking, ‘May I have nothing to do <j>with those of bad wishes, lazy, lacking energy, unlearned, lacking regard for others’— what keeps you in the world? <j>What would you become?”

“An intelligent, learned person, steady in ethics, devoted to serenity of heart— let them stand at the head.”

“A beast who likes to proliferate, enjoying proliferation, fails to win extinguishment, the supreme sanctuary from the yoke.

But one who gives up proliferation, enjoying the state of non-proliferation, wins extinguishment, the supreme sanctuary from the yoke.”

“Whether in the village or the wilderness, in a valley or the uplands, wherever the perfected ones live is a delightful place.”

“Delightful are the wildernesses where no people delight. Those free of greed will delight there, not those who seek sensual pleasures.”

“Regard one who sees your faults as a guide to a hidden treasure. Stay close to one so intelligent and astute who curbs you when you need it. Sticking close to such an impartial person, things get better, not worse.”

“Advise and instruct; curb wickedness: for you shall be loved by the good, and disliked by the bad.”

“The Blessed One, the Buddha, the seer was teaching Dhamma to another. As he taught the Dhamma, I lent an ear to get the meaning. My listening wasn’t wasted: I’m freed, without defilements.”

“Not for knowledge of past lives, nor even for clairvoyance; not for psychic powers, <j>or encompassing the minds of others, nor for knowing people’s <j>passing away and being reborn; not for purifying the power of clairaudience, did I have any wish.”

“His only shelter is the foot of a tree; shaven, wrapped in his outer robe, the senior monk foremost in wisdom, Upatissa himself practices absorption.

When in a meditation free of placing the mind, a disciple of the Buddha is at that moment blessed with noble silence.

As a rocky mountain is unwavering and well grounded, so when delusion ends, a monk, like a mountain, doesn’t tremble.”

“To the man who has not a blemish, who is always seeking purity, even a hair-tip of evil seems as big as a stormcloud.”

“I don’t long for death; I don’t long for life; I will lay down this body, aware and mindful.

I don’t long for death; I don’t long for life; I await my time, like a worker waiting for their wages.”

“Both what came before and what follows after are nothing but death, not freedom from death. Practice, don’t perish— don’t let the moment pass you by.

Just like a frontier city, is guarded inside and out, so you should ward yourselves— don’t let the moment pass you by. For if you miss your moment you’ll grieve when sent to hell.”

“Calm and still, thoughtful in counsel, not restless— he shakes off bad qualities as the gale shakes leaves off a tree.

Calm and still, thoughtful in counsel, not restless— he plucks off bad qualities as the gale shakes leaves off a tree.

Calm and free of despair, clear and unclouded, of good morals, intelligent: one would make an end of suffering.”

“Some householders, and even some renunciants, are not to be trusted. Some who were good later become bad; while some who were bad become good.”

“Sensual desire, ill will, dullness and drowsiness, restlessness, and doubt: these are the five mental stains for a monk.”

“Whether they’re honored or not honored, or both, their immersion doesn’t waver as they abide in the immeasurables.

They persistently practice absorption with subtle view and discernment. Rejoicing in the ending of grasping, they’re said to be a true person.”

“The oceans and the earth, the mountains and the wind— no simile can do justice to the Teacher’s magnificent liberation.”

“The senior monk who keeps the wheel rolling, he is very wise and serene. Like earth, like water, like fire, he is neither attracted nor repelled.

He has attained the perfection of wisdom, so intelligent and thoughtful. He is bright, but seems to be dull; he always wanders, quenched.”

“I’ve served the Teacher and fulfilled the Buddha’s instructions. The heavy burden is laid down, the leash to existence is eradicated.

Persist with diligence: this is my instruction. Come, I’ll be fully quenched— I am everywhere free.”

Verses of the Senior Monks 17.3 The Book of the Thirties Chapter One Ānanda “The astute would not make friends with the slanderous or the hateful, with a miser or a gloater, for it’s bad to consort with reprobates.

The astute would make friends with the faithful and the pleasant, the wise and the learned, for it’s a blessing to consort with true persons.”

“See this fancy puppet, a body built of sores, diseased, obsessed over, in which nothing lasts at all.

See this fancy puppet, with its gems and earrings; it is bones swathed in skin, made pretty by its clothes.

Rouged feet and powdered face may be enough to beguile a fool, but not a seeker of the far shore.

Hair in eight braids and eyeshadow may be enough to beguile a fool, but not a seeker of the far shore.

A rotting body all adorned like a freshly painted makeup box may be enough to beguile a fool, but not a seeker of the far shore.”

“Gotama is learned, a brilliant speaker, the attendant to the Buddha. With burden put down, detached, Gotama made his bed.

Defilements ended, detached, he has got over clinging and become quenched. He bears his final body, having gone beyond birth and death.”

“Gotama stands firm on the path that leads to quenching, where the teachings of the Buddha, the Kinsman of the Sun, are grounded.”

“82,000 from the Buddha, and 2,000 more from the monks: 84,000 teachings I’ve learned, and these are what I promulgate.”

“A person of little learning ages like an ox— their flesh grows, but not their wisdom.

A learned person who, on account of their learning, looks down on someone of little learning, strikes me as like a blind man holding a lamp.

You should stay close to a learned person— don’t lose what you’ve learned. It is the root of the spiritual life, which is why you should memorize the teaching.

Knowing the sequence and meaning of the teaching, expert in the definition of terms, they make sure it is well memorized, and then examine the meaning.

Accepting the teachings, they become enthusiastic; making an attempt, they weigh up the teaching. When it’s time, they strive serene inside themselves.

If you want to understand the teaching, you should befriend that sort, who are learned and have memorized the teachings, wise disciples of the Buddha.

One who is learned <j>and has memorized the teaching, a keeper of the great seer’s treasury, is a visionary for the whole world, learned and honorable.

Delighting in the teaching, enjoying the teaching, contemplating the teaching, a mendicant who recollects the teaching doesn’t fall away from the true teaching.”

“When your body is pampered and heavy, while your remaining time is running out, greedy for physical pleasure, how can you be comfortable as an ascetic?”

“I’m completely disorientated! The teachings don’t spring to mind! With the passing of our good friend, everything seems dark.

When your friend has passed away, and your Teacher is past and gone, there’s no friend like mindfulness of the body.

The old have passed away, and I don’t agree with the new. Today I meditate alone like a bird snug in its nest.”

“Many visitors from abroad have come to visit. Don’t block the audience, let the congregation see me.”

“Lots of visitors from abroad have come to visit. The teacher grants them the opportunity, the Clear-eyed One doesn’t turn them away.”

“In the twenty five years that have passed since I became a trainee, no sensual perception has arisen in me: behold the clear rightness of the teaching!

In the twenty-five years since I became a trainee, no malicious perception has arisen in me: behold the clear rightness of the teaching!”

“For twenty-five years I attended on the Buddha with loving deeds, like a shadow that never left.

For twenty-five years I attended on the Buddha with loving words, like a shadow that never left.

For twenty-five years I attended on the Buddha with loving thoughts, like a shadow that never left.

While the Buddha was walking mindfully, I walked behind him. As he taught the Dhamma, knowledge arose in me.”

“I’m a trainee, who has more to do; my heart’s desire is still unfulfilled. Yet the Teacher, who was so compassionate to me, has become fully extinguished.

Then there was terror! Then they had goosebumps! When the Buddha, endowed with all fine qualities, was fully quenched.”

“Ānanda, who was learned <j>and had memorized the teaching, a keeper of the great seer’s treasury, a visionary for the entire world, has become fully quenched.

He was learned <j>and had memorized the teaching, a keeper of the great seer’s treasury, a visionary for the entire world, in thick of night he dispelled the dark.

He is the seer who remembered the teachings, and mastered their sequence, holding them firm. The senior monk who memorized the teaching, Ānanda was a mine of gems.”

“I’ve served the Teacher and fulfilled the Buddha’s instructions. The heavy burden is laid down, now there’ll be no more future lives.”

Verses of the Senior Monks 18.1 The Book of the Forties Chapter One Mahākassapa “You shouldn’t live for the adulation of a following; it turns your mind, making it hard to get immersion. Seeing that popularity is suffering, you shouldn’t consent to a following.

A sage should not visit respectable families; it turns your mind, making it hard to get immersion. If you’re eager and greedy for flavors, you’ll miss the goal that brings such happiness.

They know it really is a bog, this homage and veneration in respectable families. Honor is a subtle dart, hard to extract, and hard for a reprobate to give up.”

“I came down from my lodging and entered the city for alms. I courteously stood by while a leper ate.

With his putrid hand he offered me a morsel. Putting the morsel in my bowl, his finger dropped off right there.

Sitting by a wall, I ate that lump of rice. I did not feel any disgust while eating or afterwards.

Anyone who makes use of leftovers for food, rancid urine as medicine, the root of a tree as lodging, and cast-off rags as robes, is at ease in any quarter.”

“Where some have fallen to ruin while climbing the mountain, there Kassapa ascends; an heir of the Buddha, aware and mindful, owing to his psychic powers.

Returning from almsround, Kassapa ascends the mountain, and practices absorption without grasping, with fear and dread given up.

Returning from almsround, Kassapa ascends the mountain, and practices absorption without grasping, quenched amongst those who burn.

Returning from almsround, Kassapa ascends the mountain, and practices absorption without grasping, his task completed, free of defilements.”

“Strewn with garlands of the musk-rose tree, these regions are so delightful, so lovely, echoing with the trumpeting of elephants: these rocky crags delight me!

Glistening, they look like blue stormclouds, with waters cool and streams so clear, and covered all in ladybugs: these rocky crags delight me!

Like the peak of a blue stormcloud, or like a fine bungalow, lovely, echoing with the trumpeting of elephants: these rocky crags delight me!

The rain comes down on the lovely flats, in the mountains frequented by seers. Echoing with the cries of peacocks, these rocky crags delight me!

It’s enough for me, who loves absorption, to remain resolute. It’s enough for me, a resolute monk who wants what’s best.

It’s enough for me, a resolute monk who loves comfort. It’s enough for me, resolute and unaffected, loving meditation.

Covered with flowers of flax, like the welkin covered with stormclouds, full of flocks of many different birds, these rocky crags delight me!

Empty of householders, frequented by herds of deer, full of flocks of many different birds, these rocky crags delight me!

The water’s clear and the rocks are broad, monkeys and deer are all around; festooned with dewy moss, these rocky crags delight me!”

“Even the music of a five-piece band can never give such pleasure as when, with unified mind, you rightly discern the Dhamma.”

“Don’t get involved in lots of work, avoid people, and don’t try to acquire things. If you’re eager and greedy for flavors, you’ll miss the goal that brings such happiness.

Don’t get involved in lots of work, avoid what doesn’t lead to the goal. The body gets worn out and fatigued, and when you ache, you won’t find serenity.”

“You won’t see yourself by merely reciting words, wandering stiff-necked and thinking, ‘I’m better than them.’

The fool is no better, but they think they are. The wise don’t praise pompous people.

Whoever does not waver due to the discriminations— ‘I am better’, ‘I’m not better’, ‘I am worse’, or ‘I am the same’—