IV. THE DISADVANTAGES OF ATTACHMENT TO THE BODY
All too soon, this body
will lie on the ground
cast off,
bereft of consciousness,
like a useless scrap
of wood.
“The body is aflame. Tactile sensations are aflame. Bodily consciousness is aflame. Bodily contact is aflame. And whatever there is that arises in dependence on bodily contact—experienced as pleasure, pain or neither-pleasure-nor-pain—that too is aflame. Aflame with what? Aflame with the fire of passion, the fire of aversion, the fire of delusion. Aflame, I tell you, with birth, aging & death, with sorrows, lamentations, pains, distresses, & despairs.…
“Seeing thus, the instructed disciple of the noble ones grows disenchanted with the body, disenchanted with tactile sensations, disenchanted with bodily consciousness, disenchanted with bodily contact. And whatever there is that arises in dependence on bodily contact, experienced as pleasure, pain or neither-pleasure-nor-pain: With that, too, he grows disenchanted.
“Disenchanted, he becomes dispassionate. Through dispassion, he is fully released. With full release, there is the knowledge, ‘Fully released.’ He discerns that ‘Birth is depleted, the holy life fulfilled, the task done. There is nothing further for this world.’”
Then Jānussonin the brahman went to the Blessed One and, on arrival, exchanged courteous greetings with him. After an exchange of friendly greetings & courtesies, he sat to one side. As he was sitting there he said to the Blessed One: “I am of the view & opinion that there is no one who, subject to death, is not afraid or in terror of death.”
[The Blessed One said:] “Brahman, there are those who, subject to death, are afraid & in terror of death. And there are those who, subject to death, are not afraid or in terror of death.
“And who is the person who, subject to death, is afraid & in terror of death? There is the case of the person who has not abandoned passion, desire, fondness, thirst, fever, & craving for sensuality. Then he comes down with a serious disease. As he comes down with a serious disease, the thought occurs to him, ‘O, those beloved sensual pleasures will be taken from me, and I will be taken from them!’ He grieves & is tormented, weeps, beats his breast, & grows delirious. This is a person who, subject to death, is afraid & in terror of death.
“Then there is the case of the person who has not abandoned passion, desire, fondness, thirst, fever, & craving for the body. Then he comes down with a serious disease. As he comes down with a serious disease, the thought occurs to him, ‘O, my beloved body will be taken from me, and I will be taken from my body!’ He grieves & is tormented, weeps, beats his breast, & grows delirious. This, too, is a person who, subject to death, is afraid & in terror of death.
“Then there is the case of the person who has not done what is good, has not done what is skillful, has not given protection to those in fear, and instead has done what is evil, savage, & cruel. Then he comes down with a serious disease. As he comes down with a serious disease, the thought occurs to him, ‘I have not done what is good, have not done what is skillful, have not given protection to those in fear, and instead have done what is evil, savage, & cruel. To the extent that there is a destination for those who have not done what is good, have not done what is skillful, have not given protection to those in fear, and instead have done what is evil, savage, & cruel, that’s where I’m headed after death.’ He grieves & is tormented, weeps, beats his breast, & grows delirious. This, too, is a person who, subject to death, is afraid & in terror of death.
“Then there is the case of the person in doubt & perplexity, who has not arrived at certainty with regard to the True Dhamma. Then he comes down with a serious disease. As he comes down with a serious disease, the thought occurs to him, ‘How doubtful & perplexed I am! I have not arrived at any certainty with regard to the True Dhamma!’ He grieves & is tormented, weeps, beats his breast, & grows delirious. This, too, is a person who, subject to death, is afraid & in terror of death.
“These, brahman, are four people who, subject to death, are afraid & in terror of death.
“And who is the person who, subject to death, is not afraid or in terror of death?
“There is the case of the person who has abandoned passion, desire, fondness, thirst, fever, & craving for sensuality. Then he comes down with a serious disease. As he comes down with a serious disease, the thought doesn’t occur to him, ‘O, those beloved sensual pleasures will be taken from me, and I will be taken from them!’ He doesn’t grieve, isn’t tormented; doesn’t weep, beat his breast, or grow delirious. This is a person who, subject to death, is not afraid or in terror of death.
“Then there is the case of the person who has abandoned passion, desire, fondness, thirst, fever, & craving for the body. Then he comes down with a serious disease. As he comes down with a serious disease, the thought doesn’t occur to him, ‘O, my beloved body will be taken from me, and I will be taken from my body!’ He doesn’t grieve, isn’t tormented; doesn’t weep, beat his breast, or grow delirious. This, too, is a person who, subject to death, is not afraid or in terror of death.
“Then there is the case of the person who has done what is good, has done what is skillful, has given protection to those in fear, and has not done what is evil, savage, or cruel. Then he comes down with a serious disease. As he comes down with a serious disease, the thought occurs to him, ‘I have done what is good, have done what is skillful, have given protection to those in fear, and I have not done what is evil, savage, or cruel. To the extent that there is a destination for those who have done what is good, what is skillful, have given protection to those in fear, and have not done what is evil, savage, or cruel, that’s where I’m headed after death.’ He doesn’t grieve, isn’t tormented; doesn’t weep, beat his breast, or grow delirious. This, too, is a person who, subject to death, is not afraid or in terror of death.
“Then there is the case of the person who has no doubt or perplexity, who has arrived at certainty with regard to the True Dhamma. Then he comes down with a serious disease. As he comes down with a serious disease, the thought occurs to him, ‘I have no doubt or perplexity. I have arrived at certainty with regard to the True Dhamma.’ He doesn’t grieve, isn’t tormented; doesn’t weep, beat his breast, or grow delirious. This, too, is a person who, subject to death, is not afraid or in terror of death.
“These, brahman, are four people who, subject to death, are not afraid or in terror of death.”
[When this was said, Jānussonin the brahman said to the Blessed One:] “Magnificent, Master Gotama! Magnificent! Just as if he were to place upright what was overturned, to reveal what was hidden, to show the way to one who was lost, or to carry a lamp into the dark so that those with eyes could see forms, in the same way has Master Gotama—through many lines of reasoning—made the Dhamma clear. I go to Master Gotama for refuge, to the Dhamma, and to the Saṅgha of monks. May Master Gotama remember me as a lay follower who has gone to him for refuge, from this day forward, for life.”
“And what is the perception of drawbacks? There is the case where a monk—having gone to the wilderness, to the foot of a tree, or to an empty dwelling—reflects thus: ‘This body has many pains, many drawbacks. In this body many kinds of disease arise, such as: seeing-diseases, hearing-diseases, nose-diseases, tongue-diseases, body-diseases, head-diseases, ear-diseases, mouth-diseases, teeth-diseases, cough, asthma, catarrh, fever, aging, stomach-ache, fainting, dysentery, grippe, cholera, leprosy, boils, ringworm, tuberculosis, epilepsy, skin-diseases, itch, scab, psoriasis, scabies, jaundice, diabetes, hemorrhoids, fistulas, ulcers; diseases arising from bile, from phlegm, from the wind-property, from combinations of bodily humors, from changes in the weather, from uneven care of the body, from attacks, from the result of kamma; cold, heat, hunger, thirst, defecation, urination.’ Thus he remains focused on drawbacks with regard to this body. This is called the perception of drawbacks.”
“I will teach you a Dhamma discourse on bondage & lack of bondage. Listen & pay close attention. I will speak.”
“Yes, lord,” the monks responded.
The Blessed One said: “A woman attends inwardly to her feminine faculties, her feminine gestures, her feminine manners, feminine poise, feminine desires, feminine voice, feminine charms. She is excited by that, delighted by that. Being excited & delighted by that, she attends outwardly to masculine faculties, masculine gestures, masculine manners, masculine poise, masculine desires, masculine voices, masculine charms. She is excited by that, delighted by that. Being excited & delighted by that, she wants to be bonded to what is outside her, wants whatever pleasure & happiness that arise based on that bond. Delighting, caught up in her femininity, a woman goes into bondage with reference to men. This is how a woman does not transcend her femininity.
“A man attends inwardly to his masculine faculties, masculine gestures, masculine manners, masculine poise, masculine desires, masculine voice, masculine charms. He is excited by that, delighted by that. Being excited & delighted by that, he attends outwardly to feminine faculties, feminine gestures, feminine manners, feminine poise, feminine desires, feminine voices, feminine charms. He is excited by that, delighted by that. Being excited & delighted by that, he wants to be bonded to what is outside him, wants whatever pleasure & happiness that arise based on that bond. Delighting, caught up in his masculinity, a man goes into bondage with reference to women. This is how a man does not transcend his masculinity.
“And how is there lack of bondage? A woman does not attend inwardly to her feminine faculties … feminine charms. She is not excited by that, not delighted by that … does not attend outwardly to masculine faculties … masculine charms. She is not excited by that, not delighted by that … does not want to be bonded to what is outside her, does not want whatever pleasure & happiness that arise based on that bond. Not delighting, not caught up in her femininity, a woman does not go into bondage with reference to men. This is how a woman transcends her femininity.
“A man does not attend inwardly to his masculine faculties … masculine charms. He is not excited by that, not delighted by that … does not attend outwardly to feminine faculties … feminine charms. He is not excited by that, not delighted by that … does not want to be bonded to what is outside him, does not want whatever pleasure & happiness that arise based on that bond. Not delighting, not caught up in his masculinity, a man does not go into bondage with reference to women. This is how a man transcends his masculinity.
“This is how there is lack of bondage. And this is the Dhamma discourse on bondage & lack of bondage.”
[Ven. Ānanda teaches a nun:] “‘This body comes into being through food. And yet it is by relying on food that food is to be abandoned.’ Thus it was said. And in reference to what was it said? There is the case, sister, where a monk, considering it thoughtfully, takes food—not playfully, nor for intoxication, nor for putting on bulk, nor for beautification—but simply for the survival & continuance of this body, for ending its afflictions, for the support of the holy life, [thinking,] ‘Thus will I destroy old feelings [of hunger] and not create new feelings [from overeating]. I will maintain myself, be blameless, & live in comfort.’ Then, at a later time, he abandons food, having relied on food. ‘This body, sister, comes into being through food. And yet it is by relying on food that food is to be abandoned.’ Thus it was said, and in reference to this was it said.
“‘This body comes into being through craving. And yet it is by relying on craving that craving is to be abandoned.’ Thus it was said. And in reference to what was it said? There is the case, sister, where a monk hears, ‘The monk named such-and-such, they say, through the ending of the effluents, has entered & remains in the effluent- & discernment-release, having known & realized them for himself in the here & now.’ The thought occurs to him, ‘I hope that I, too, will—through the ending of the effluents—enter & remain in the effluent-free awareness-release & discernment-release, having directly known & realized them for myself right in the here & now.’ Then, at a later time, he abandons craving, having relied on craving. ‘This body comes into being through craving. And yet it is by relying on craving that craving is to be abandoned.’ Thus it was said. And in reference to this was it said.
“‘This body comes into being through conceit. And yet it is by relying on conceit that conceit is to be abandoned.’ Thus it was said. And in reference to what was it said? There is the case, sister, where a monk hears, ‘The monk named such-and-such, they say, through the ending of the effluents, has entered & remains in the effluent-free awareness-release & discernment-release, having directly known & realized them for himself right in the here & now.’ The thought occurs to him, ‘The monk named such-&-such, they say, through the ending of the effluents, has entered & remains in the effluent-free awareness-release & discernment-release, having directly known & realized them for himself right in the here & now. Then why not me?’ Then, at a later time, he abandons conceit, having relied on conceit. ‘This body comes into being through conceit. And yet it is by relying on conceit that conceit is to be abandoned.’ Thus it was said, and in reference to this was it said.
“This body comes into being through sexual intercourse. Sexual intercourse is to be abandoned. With regard to sexual intercourse, the Buddha declares the cutting off of the bridge.”
Look at the beautified image,
a heap of festering wounds, shored up:
ill, but the object
of many resolves,
where there is nothing
lasting or sure.
Worn out is this body,
a nest of diseases, dissolving.
This putrid conglomeration
is bound to break up,
for life is hemmed in with death.
On seeing these bones
discarded
like gourds in the fall,
pigeon-gray:
what delight?
A city made of bones,
plastered over with flesh & blood,
whose hidden treasures are:
pride & contempt,
aging & death.
Whether walking, standing,
sitting, or lying down,
it flexes & stretches:
This is the body’s movement.
Joined together with tendons & bones,
plastered over with muscle & skin,
hidden by complexion,
the body isn’t seen
for what it is:
filled with intestines, filled with stomach,
with the lump of the liver,
bladder, lungs, heart,
kidneys, spleen,
mucus, sweat, saliva, fat,
blood, synovial fluid, bile, & oil.
On top of that,
in nine streams,
filth is always flowing from it:
from the eyes : eye secretions,
from the ears : ear secretions,
from the nose : mucus,
from the mouth : it vomits:
now vomit,
now phlegm,
now bile;
from the body : beads of sweat.
And on top of that,
its hollow head is filled with brains.
The fool, beset by ignorance,
thinks it beautiful.
but when it lies dead,
swollen, livid,
cast away in a charnel ground,
even relatives don’t care for it.
Dogs feed on it,
jackals, wolves, & worms.
Crows & vultures feed on it,
along with any other animals there.
Having heard the Awakened One’s words,
the discerning monk
comprehends, for he sees it
for what it is:
“As this is, so is that.
As that, so this.”
Within & without,
he should let desire for the body
fade away.
With desire & passion faded away,
the discerning monk arrives here:
at the deathless,
the calm,
the undying state
of unbinding.
This two-footed thing is cared for,
filthy, evil-smelling,
filled with various carcasses,
oozing out here & there:
Whoever would think,
on the basis of a body like this,
to exalt himself or disparage another:
What is that
if not blindness?
“Monks, it’s just as if there were a boil that had been building for many years with nine openings, nine un-lanced heads. Whatever would ooze out from it would be an uncleanliness oozing out, a stench oozing out, a disgust oozing out. Whatever would be discharged from it would be an uncleanliness discharging, a stench discharging, a disgust discharging.
“‘A boil,’ monks, is another word for this body composed of the four properties, born of mother & father, fed on rice & porridge, subject to inconstancy, rubbing & massaging, breaking-up & disintegrating. It has nine openings, nine un-lanced heads. Whatever would ooze out from it would be an uncleanliness oozing out, a stench oozing out, a disgust oozing out. Whatever would be discharged from it would be an uncleanliness discharging, a stench discharging, a disgust discharging. For that reason, you should become disenchanted with this body.”
Piṅgiya:
I’m old & weak,
my complexion dull.
I’ve blurry eyes
and trouble hearing,
but may I not perish deluded,
confused!
Teach me the Dhamma
so that I may know
the abandoning here
of birth & aging.
The Buddha:
Seeing people suffering
on account of their bodies—
heedless people are oppressed
on account of their bodies—
then heedful, Piṅgiya,
let go of the body
for the sake of no further becoming.
Piṅgiya:
In the four cardinal directions,
the four intermediate,
above & below
—the ten directions—
there is nothing in the world
unseen, unheard,
unsensed, uncognized by you.
Teach me the Dhamma
so that I may know
the abandoning here
of birth & aging.
The Buddha:
Seeing people,
victims of craving—
aflame, overwhelmed with aging—
then heedful, Piṅgiya,
let go of craving
for the sake of no further becoming.
Māṇava:
On seeing an old person;
&
a person in pain, diseased;
&
a person dead, gone to life’s end,
I left
for the life gone forth,
abandoning the sensuality
that entices the heart.
All too soon, this body
will lie on the ground
cast off,
bereft of consciousness,
like a useless scrap
of wood.
Look at the beautified image,
a heap of festering wounds, shored up:
ill, but the object
of many desires,
where there is nothing
lasting or sure.
A city made of bones,
plastered over with flesh & blood,
whose hidden treasures are:
pride & contempt,
aging & death.
This unlistening man
matures like an ox.
His muscles develop,
his discernment not.
Kimbila:
As if sent by a curse,
it drops on us—
aging.
The body seems other,
though it’s still the same one.
I’m still here
& have never been absent from it,
but I remember myself
as if somebody else’s.
Mahākāla:
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.
Rājadata:
I, a monk,
gone to the charnel ground,
saw a woman cast away,
discarded
there in the cemetery.
Though some were disgusted,
seeing her—dead, evil—
lust
appeared,
as if I were blind
to the oozings.
In less time than it takes
for rice to cook,
I got out of that place.
Mindful, alert, I
sat down to one side.
Then apt attention arose in me,
the drawbacks appeared,
disenchantment stood
at an even keel:
With that, my heart was released.
See the Dhamma’s true rightness!
The three knowledges
have been attained;
the Awakened One’s bidding,
done.
As Subhā the nun was going through Jīvaka’s delightful mango grove, a libertine [a goldsmith’s son] blocked her path, so she said to him:
‘What wrong have I done you
that you stand in my way?
It’s not proper, my friend,
that a man should touch
a woman gone forth.
I respect the Master’s message,
the training pointed out by the one well-gone.
I am pure, without blemish:
Why do you stand in my way?
You—your mind agitated, impassioned;
I—unagitated, unimpassioned,
with a mind entirely freed:
Why do you stand in my way?’
‘You are young & not bad-looking,
what need do you have for going forth?
Throw off your ochre robe—
Come, let’s delight in the flowering grove.
A sweetness they exude everywhere,
the trees risen-up with their pollen.
The beginning of spring is a pleasant season—
Come, let’s delight in the flowering grove.
The trees with their blossoming tips
moan, as it were, in the breeze:
What delight will you have
if you plunge into the grove alone?
Frequented by herds of wild beasts,
disturbed by elephants rutting & aroused:
you want to go
unaccompanied
into the great, lonely, frightening grove?
Like a doll made of gold, you will go about,
like a goddess in the gardens of heaven.
With delicate, smooth Kasi fabrics,
you will shine, O beauty without compare.
I would gladly do your every bidding
if we were to dwell in the glade.
For there is no creature dearer to me
than you, O nymph with the languid regard.
If you do as I ask, happy, come live in my house.
Dwelling in the calm of a palace,
have women wait on you,
wear delicate Kasi fabrics,
adorn yourself with garlands & creams.
I will make you many & varied ornaments
of gold, jewels, & pearls.
Climb onto a costly bed,
scented with sandalwood carvings,
with a well-washed coverlet, beautiful,
spread with a woolen quilt, brand new.
Like a blue lotus rising from the water
where no human beings dwell,
you will go to old age with your limbs unseen,
if you stay as you are in the holy life.’
‘What do you assume of any essence,
here in this cemetery grower, filled with corpses,
this body destined to break up?
What do you see when you look at me,
you who are out of your mind?’
‘Your eyes are like those of a fawn,
like those of a sprite in the mountains.
Seeing your eyes, my sensual delight
grows all the more.
Like tips they are, of blue lotuses,
in your golden face
—spotless:
Seeing your eyes, my sensual delight
grows all the more.
Even if you should go far away,
I will think only of your pure,
long-lashed gaze,
for there is nothing dearer to me
than your eyes, O nymph with the languid regard.’
‘You want to stray from the road,
you want the moon as a plaything,
you want to jump over Mount Sineru,
you who have designs on one born of the Buddha.
For there is nothing anywhere at all
in the cosmos with its gods,
that would be an object of passion for me.
I don’t even know what that passion would be,
for it’s been killed, root & all, by the path.
Like embers from a pit—scattered,
like a bowl of poison—evaporated,
I don’t even see what that passion would be,
for it’s been killed, root & all, by the path.
Try to seduce one who hasn’t reflected on this,
or who has not followed the Master’s teaching.
But try it with this one who knows
and you suffer.
For in the midst of praise & blame,
pleasure & pain,
my mindfulness stands firm.
Knowing the unattractiveness
of things compounded,
my mind cleaves to nothing at all.
I am a follower of the one well-gone,
riding the vehicle of the eightfold way:
My arrow removed, effluent-free,
I delight, having gone to an empty dwelling.
For I have seen well-painted puppets,
hitched up with sticks & strings,
made to dance in various ways.
When the sticks & strings are removed,
thrown away, scattered, shredded,
smashed into pieces, not to be found,
in what will the mind there make its home?
This body of mine, which is just like that,
when devoid of dhammas doesn’t function.
When, devoid of dhammas, it doesn’t function,
in what will the mind there make its home?
Like a mural you’ve seen, painted on a wall,
smeared with yellow orpiment,
there your vision has been distorted,
meaningless your human perception.
Like an evaporated mirage,
like a tree of gold in a dream,
like a magic show in the midst of a crowd—
you run blind after what is unreal.
Resembling a ball of sealing wax,
set in a hollow,
with a bubble in the middle
and bathed with tears,
eye secretions are born there too:
The parts of the eye
are rolled all together
in various ways.’
Plucking out her lovely eye,
with mind unattached
she felt no regret.
‘Here, take this eye. It’s yours.’
Straightaway she gave it to him.
Straightaway his passion faded right there,
and he begged her forgiveness.
‘Be well, follower of the holy life.
This sort of thing
won’t happen again.
Harming a person like you
is like embracing a blazing fire.
It’s as if I have seized a poisonous snake.
So may you be well. Forgive me.’
And released from there, the nun
went to the excellent Buddha’s presence.
When she saw the mark of his excellent merit,
her eye became
as it was before.
Sundara Samudda:
Ornamented, finely clothed
garlanded, adorned,
her feet stained red with lac,
she wore slippers:
a courtesan.
Stepping out of her slippers—
her hands raised before me,
palm-to-palm over her heart—
she softly, tenderly,
in measured words
spoke to me first:
“You are young, recluse.
Heed my message:
Partake of human sensuality.
I will give you luxury.
Truly I vow to you,
I will tend to you as to a fire.
When we are old,
both leaning on canes,
then we will both become contemplatives,
winning the benefits of both worlds.”
And seeing her before me—
a courtesan, ornamented, finely clothed,
hands palm-to-palm over her heart—
like a snare of death laid out,
apt attention arose in me,
the drawbacks appeared,
disenchantment stood
at an even keel:
With that, my heart was released.
See the Dhamma’s true rightness!
The three knowledges
have been attained;
the Buddha’s bidding,
done.
Kappa:
Full of the many clans of impurities,
the great manufacturer of excrement,
like a stagnant pool,
a great tumor,
great wound,
full of blood & lymph,
immersed in a cesspool,
trickling liquids, the body
is oozing foulness—always.
Bound together with sixty sinews,
plastered with a stucco of muscle,
wrapped in a jacket of skin,
this foul body is of no worth at all.
Linked together with a chain of bones,
stitched together with tendon-threads,
it produces its various postures,
from being hitched up together.
Headed surely to death,
in the presence of the King of Mortality,
the man who learns to discard it right here,
goes wherever he wants.
Covered with ignorance,
the body’s tied down with a four-fold tie,1
sunk in the floods,2
caught in the net of obsessions,3
conjoined with five hindrances,4
given over to thought,
accompanied with the root of craving,
roofed with delusion’s roofing.
That’s how the body functions,
compelled by the compulsion of kamma,
but its attainment ends
in ruin.
Its many becomings go
to ruin.
These who hold to this body as mine
—blind fools, people run-of-the-mill—
fill the horrific cemetery,
taking on further becoming.
Those who stay uninvolved with this body
—as they would with a serpent
smeared with dung—
disgorging the root of becoming,5
from lack of effluent
will be totally unbound.
NOTES
1. The four-fold tie: greed, ill will, attachment to precepts & practice, and dogmatic obsession with views.
2. Floods: sensuality, becoming, views, and ignorance. See SN 45:171. These are identical with the four yokes. See AN 4:10.
3. Obsessions: sensual passion, resistance, views, uncertainty, conceit, passion for becoming, and ignorance. See AN 7:11-12.
4. Hindrances: sensual desire, ill will, sloth & torpor, restlessness & anxiety, and uncertainty. See DN 2 and SN 46:51.
5. The root of becoming: craving.
Ampabālī:
Black was my hair
—the color of bees—
& curled at the tips;
with age, it looked like coarse hemp.
The Truth-speaker’s word
doesn’t change.
Fragrant, like a perfumed basket
filled with flowers: my coiffure.
With age it smelled musty,
like animal fur.
The Truth-speaker’s word
doesn’t change.
Thick & lush, like a well-tended grove,
made splendid, the tips elaborate
with comb & pin.
With age, it grew thin
& bald here & there.
The Truth-speaker’s word
doesn’t change.
Adorned with gold & delicate pins,
it was splendid, ornamented with braids.
Now, with age,
that head has gone bald.
The Truth-speaker’s word
doesn’t change.
Curved, as if well-drawn by an artist,
my brows were once splendid.
With age, they droop down in folds.
The Truth-speaker’s word
doesn’t change.
Radiant, brilliant like jewels,
my eyes: elongated, black—deep black.
With age, they’re no longer splendid.
The Truth-speaker’s word
doesn’t change.
Like a delicate peak, my nose
was splendid in the prime of my youth.
With age, it’s like a long pepper.
The Truth-speaker’s word
doesn’t change.
Like bracelets—well-fashioned, well-finished—
my ears were once splendid.
With age, they droop down in folds.
The Truth-speaker’s word
doesn’t change.
Like plantain buds in their color,
my teeth were once splendid.
With age, they’re broken & yellowed.
The Truth-speaker’s word
doesn’t change.
Like that of a cuckoo in the dense jungle,
flitting through deep forest thickets:
sweet was the tone of my voice.
With age, it cracks here & there.
The Truth-speaker’s word
doesn’t change.
Smooth—like a conch shell well-polished—
my neck was once splendid.
With age, it’s broken down, bent.
The Truth-speaker’s word
doesn’t change.
Like rounded door-bars—both of them—
my arms were once splendid.
With age, they’re like dried up patali trees.
The Truth-speaker’s word
doesn’t change.
Adorned with gold & delicate rings,
my hands were once splendid.
With age, they’re like onions & tubers.
The Truth-speaker’s word
doesn’t change.
Swelling, round, firm, & high,
both my breasts were once splendid.
In the drought of old age, they dangle
like empty old water bags.
The Truth-speaker’s word
doesn’t change.
Like a sheet of gold, well-burnished,
my body was splendid.
Now it’s covered with very fine wrinkles.
The Truth-speaker’s word
doesn’t change.
Smooth in their lines, like an elephant’s trunk,
both my thighs were once splendid.
With age, they’re like knotted bamboo.
The Truth-speaker’s word
doesn’t change.
Adorned with gold & delicate anklets,
my calves were once splendid.
With age, they’re like sesame sticks.
The Truth-speaker’s word
doesn’t change.
As if they were stuffed with soft cotton,
both my feet were once splendid.
With age, they’re shriveled & cracked.
The Truth-speaker’s word
doesn’t change.
Such was this physical heap,
now: decrepit, the home of pains, many pains.
A house with its plaster all fallen off.
The Truth-speaker’s word
doesn’t change.
Nandā:
“Sick, putrid, unclean:
look, Nandā, at this physical heap.
Through contemplation of the foul,
develop your mind,
make it one, well-centered.
As this [your body], so that.
As that, so this.
It gives off a foul stench,
the delight of fools.”
Considering it thus,
untiring, both day & night,
I, with my own discernment
dissecting it,
saw.
And as I, heedful,
examined it aptly,
this body—as it actually is—
was seen inside & out.
Then was I disenchanted with the body
& dispassionate within:
Heedful, detached,
calmed was I.
Unbound.
Soṇā:
Ten children I bore
from this physical heap.
Then weak from that, aged,
I went to a nun.
She taught me the Dhamma:
aggregates, sense spheres, & elements.
Hearing her Dhamma,
I cut off my hair & ordained.
Having purified the divine eye
while still a probationer,
I know my previous lives,
where I lived in the past.
I develop the theme-less meditation,
well-focused oneness.
I gain the liberation of immediacy—
from lack of clinging, unbound.
The five aggregates, comprehended,
stand like a tree with its root cut through.
I spit on old age.
There is now no further becoming.
