Appaṁ vata jīvitaṁ idaṁ,
Oraṁ vassasatāpi miyyati;
Yo cepi aticca jīvati,
Atha kho so jarasāpi miyyati.
Wow! This life is brief,
even before a hundred years it passes away;
even if one lives beyond this,
one still dies by growing old.
Socanti janā mamāyite,
Na hi santi niccā pariggahā;
Vinābhāvasantamevidaṁ,
Iti disvā nāgāramāvase.
People grieve over what they call ‘mine,’
but no possessions are lasting;
this [world] is marked by separation,
seeing this — one should not live the home life.
Maraṇenapi taṁ pahīyati,
Yaṁ puriso mamidanti maññati;
Etampi viditvā paṇḍito,
Na mamattāya nametha māmako.
Whatever a person conceives as, ‘this is mine,’
at death, that too is given up;
realizing this, the wise disciple,
should not incline to self-identification.
Supinena yathāpi saṅgataṁ,
Paṭibuddho puriso na passati;
Evampi piyāyitaṁ janaṁ,
Petaṁ kālaṅkataṁ na passati.
Just as, on waking up, a person does not see,
what was encountered in a dream;
so too, the beloved,
having passed away and departed, is seen no more.
Diṭṭhāpi sutāpi te janā,
Yesaṁ nāmamidaṁ pavuccati;
Nāmaṁyevāvasissati,
Akkheyyaṁ petassa jantuno.
Even those people who have been seen and heard,
whose name is spoken [in the world];
only their name will remain,
a word for the one now departed.
Sokapparidevamaccharaṁ,
Na jahanti giddhā mamāyite;
Tasmā munayo pariggahaṁ,
Hitvā acariṁsu khemadassino.
Those who are greedy for mine-ness,
they do not abandon sorrow, lamentation, and stinginess;
therefore, the sages, seeing true safety,
wander having abandoned possessions.
Patilīnacarassa bhikkhuno,
Bhajamānassa vivittamāsanaṁ;
Sāmaggiyamāhu tassa taṁ,
Yo attānaṁ bhavane na dassaye.
For the bhikkhu who wanders withdrawn,
resorting to a solitary seat;
they say it is fitting for him,
to not show himself in a dwelling place.
Sabbattha munī anissito,
Na piyaṁ kubbati nopi appiyaṁ;
Tasmiṁ paridevamaccharaṁ,
Paṇṇe vāri yathā na limpati.
The sage, disengaged in every respect,
makes nothing dear, nor anything disliked;
sorrow or elation do not take hold in him,
like water does not cling to a leaf.
Udabindu yathāpi pokkhare,
Padume vāri yathā na limpati;
Evaṁ muni nopalimpati,
Yadidaṁ diṭṭhasutaṁ mutesu vā.
Just as a drop of water on a lotus leaf,
or water on the lotus flower, does not cling;
so too, the sage remains unstained,
by what is seen, heard, or sensed.
Dhono na hi tena maññati,
Yadidaṁ diṭṭhasutaṁ mutesu vā;
Nāññena visuddhimicchati,
Na hi so rajjati no virajjatīti.
The purified one does not conceive,
based on what is seen, heard, or sensed;
he does not wish for purity through another,
for he neither clings nor spurns.