“Great seer, I ask you, the Kinsman of the Sun,
about seclusion and the state of peace.
How, having seen, is a mendicant extinguished,
not grasping anything in this world?”

“They would cut off the idea, ‘I am the thinker,”
said the Buddha,
“which is the root of all judgments that emerge from proliferation.
Ever mindful, they would train to remove
any internal cravings.

Regardless of what things they know,
whether internal or external,
they wouldn’t be proud because of that,
for that is not quenching, say the good.

They wouldn’t let that make them conceited,
thinking themselves better or worse or alike.
When questioned in many ways,
they wouldn’t keep justifying themselves.

A mendicant would find peace inside themselves,
and not seek peace from another.
For one at peace inside themselves,
there’s no picking up, whence putting down?

Just as, in the middle of the ocean,
no waves arise, it stays still;
so too one unstirred is still—
a mendicant would make no pretension regarding anything.”

“He whose eyes are open has explained
the truth he witnessed, where adversities are removed.
Please now speak of the practice, sir,
the monastic code and immersion in samādhi.”

“With eyes not wanton,
they’d turn their ears from village gossip.
They wouldn’t be greedy for flavors,
nor possessive about anything in the world.

Though struck by contacts,
a mendicant would not lament at all.
They wouldn’t pray for another life,
nor tremble in the face of dangers.

When they receive food and drink,
edibles and clothes,
they wouldn’t store them up,
nor worry about not getting them.

Meditative, not footloose,
they’d avoid remorse and not be negligent.
Then a mendicant would stay
in quiet places to sit and rest.

They wouldn’t take much sleep,
but, being keen, would apply themselves to wakefulness.
They’d give up sloth, illusion, mirth, and play,
and sex and ornamentation.

They wouldn’t cast Artharvaṇa spells, interpret dreams
or omens, or practice astrology.
My followers would not study ominous animal cries,
work as a doctor, or treat an impacted fetus.

Not shaken by criticism,
a mendicant would not gloat when praised.
They’d reject greed and stinginess,
anger, and slander.

They’d not stand for buying and selling;
a mendicant would not speak ill at all.
They wouldn’t linger in the village,
nor cajole people from desire for profit.

A mendicant would be no boaster,
nor would they speak suggestively.
They wouldn’t train in impudence,
nor speak argumentatively.

They wouldn’t be led into lying,
nor be deliberately devious.
And they’d never look down on another
because of livelihood, wisdom, or precepts and vows.

Though provoked from hearing much talk
from ascetics saying all different things,
they wouldn’t react harshly,
for the virtuous do not retaliate.

Having understood this teaching,
inquiring, a mendicant would always train mindfully.
Knowing quenching as peace,
they’d not be negligent in Gotama’s bidding.

For he is the vanquisher, the unvanquished,
seer of the truth as witness, not by hearsay—
that’s why, being diligent, they would always train
respectfully in the Buddha’s teaching.”

The Minor Discourses

|_【5】 Anthology of Discourses

|__IV. The Chapter of Eights

Snp4.14 Speedy

Translations [3]

English

Việt Ngữ

पाळिभासा (Pāli)

Reference

Translations [3]

English

Việt Ngữ

पाळिभासा (Pāli)

Reference

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