Psalms of the Brethren CCLI: Ratthapala

Behold the tricked-out puppet-shape, a mass
Of sores, a congeries diseased, and full
Of many purposes and plans, and yet
In whom there is no power to persist I

Behold the tricked-out form, bejewelled, ringed,
Sheathed in bones and skinny envelope,
By help of gear made fine and fair to see!

Feet dyed with lac, with rouge the lips besmeared:
All good enough for dull wit of a fool,
But not for him who seeketh the Beyond!

The locks in eightfold plait, eyes fringed with black:
All good enough for dull wit of a fool,
But not for him who seeketh the Beyond!

Like a collyrium-pot, brand new, embossed,
The body foul within is bravely decked:
All good enough for dull wit of a fool,
But not for him who seeketh the Beyond.

The trapper set his snare. The deer came not
Against the net. We’ve eaten of the bait—
Let’s go! the while deer trappers make lament.

Snapt is the hunter’s snare! The deer came not
Against the net. We’ve eaten of the bait—
Let’s go; the while deer catchers weep and wail.

Men of much wealth I see in the world: —
Riches acquiring they err in not giving.
Make out of greed a great hoard of their wealth,
Yea, hankering yet after ever more pleasures.

The king having forcibly conquered the earth,
To the shore of the ocean, holding the land
This side of the sea, may yet all unsatisfied
Hanker after the further side also.

See where both king and full many another man
Nursing their cravings come to their dying.
Paupers becoming, they put off this body,
For never content lies in pleasures of this world.

Kinsfolk bewail him with tresses dishevelled,
Crying: Alas! would our kin were immortal!’
Him in his shroud envelop t they bear away;
Raising a pyre they forthwith cremate him.

He lies a-burning, by forks being prodded,
Clad in one garment, stripped of all riches.
Never to one who is dying are kinsfolk
Refuge, nor friends, nay, nor even neighbours.

His wealth is annexed by his heirs, but the being
Goeth according to all his past actions.
Never doth wealth follow after the dying,
Nor children, nor wife, nor wealth, nor a king dom.

Never is long life gotten through riches,
Nor is old age ever banished by property.
Brief is this life, all the sages have told us;
Transient it is, and essentially changing.

All feel the Touch, both the poor and the wealthy;
Touched is the wise man no less than the fool.
But the fool, smitten down by his folly, lies prostrate;
The wise man, when feeling the Touch, never trembles.

Wherefore far better than riches is wisdom,
Whereby we arrive even here at the terminus.
For from not reaching the goal the dull-minded
Work wicked deeds in delusion, reborn
In spheres whether high or whether of no account.

Cometh a man to the womb and in other worlds
Findeth rebirth, being caught in Saijsara,
Round sempiternal of livings consecutive;
Him one of little wit follows believing,
Cometh to birth both here and in other worlds.

So is the race, after death, in another world,
By its own doing condemned as a criminal.

For by the charm, sweet and diverse, of sense-desire,
One way or other the mind is unbalanced;
And seeing the evil in sensuous pleasures,
Therefore, O King, have I gone all forsaking.

Fall as fruit from the tree all the sons of men,
Youthful and aged, when breaks down the body,
This too seeing, O King, have I gone forth.
Better the safe, sure life of religion.

Full of high confidence I left the world
And joined the Order of the Conqueror.
Blameless my going forth has been, and free
From debt I live on my allotted share.

Looking on sense-desires as fire alight,
On gold and silver as a [noxious] knife,
[On life] from entry in the womb as ill,
And on the fearsome peril of the hells: —

Seeing, I say, great evils everywhere,
Thereat was I with anguish sore beset.
Then to me, pierced and wounded as I was,
Came fourfold victory: o’er sense-desires,
O’er rebirth, error, ignorance, victory!

The Master hath my fealty and love,
And all the Buddha’s bidding hath been done.
Low have I laid the heavy load I bore,
Cause for rebirth is found in me no more.

The Good for which I bade the world farewell,
And left the home to dwell where home was not,
That highest Good have I accomplished,
And every bond and fetter is destroyed.