is the best of human beings.
Those who have tamed themselves are better
than fine tamed mules,
thoroughbreds from Sindh,
or giant tuskers.
For not on those mounts
would you go to the untrodden place,
whereas, with the help of one whose self is well tamed,
you go there, tamed by the tamed.
The tusker named Dhanapāla
is musky in rut, hard to control.
Bound, he eats not a morsel,
for he misses the elephant forest.
One who gets drowsy from overeating,
fond of sleep, rolling round the bed
like a great hog stuffed with grain:
that dullard returns to the womb again and again.
In the past my mind wandered
how it wished, where it liked, as it pleased.
Now I’ll carefully guide it,
as a trainer with a hook guides a rutting elephant.
Delight in diligence!
Take good care of your mind!
Pull yourself out of this pit,
like an elephant sunk in a bog.
If you find an alert companion,
an attentive friend to live happily together,
then, overcoming all adversities,
wander with them, joyful and mindful.
If you find no alert companion,
no attentive friend to live happily together,
then, like a king who flees his conquered realm,
wander alone like a tusker in the wilds.
It’s better to wander alone,
there’s no fellowship with fools.
Wander alone and do no wrong,
at ease like a tusker in the wilds.
A friend in need is a blessing;
it’s a blessing to be content with whatever;
good deeds are a blessing at the end of life,
and giving up all suffering is a blessing.
In this world it’s a blessing to serve
one’s mother and one’s father.
And it’s a blessing also to serve
ascetics and brahmins.
It’s a blessing to keep precepts until you grow old;
a blessing to be grounded in faith;
the getting of wisdom’s a blessing;
and it’s a blessing to avoid doing wrong.
Minor Collection
Sayings of the Dhamma 334–359
24. Craving
When a man lives heedlessly,
craving grows in them like a camel’s foot creeper.
They jump from one thing to the next, like a langur
greedy for fruit in a forest grove.
Whoever is beaten by this wretched craving,
this attachment to the world,
their sorrow grows,
like grass in the rain.
But whoever prevails over this wretched craving,
so hard to get over in the world,
their sorrows fall from them,
like a drop from a lotus-leaf.
I say this to you, good people,
all those who have gathered here:
dig up the root of craving,
as you’d dig up grass in search of roots.
Don’t let Māra break you again and again,
like a stream breaking a reed.
A tree grows back even when cut down,
so long as its roots are strong and undamaged;
suffering springs up again and again,
so long as the tendency to craving is not pulled out.
A person of low views
in whom the thirty-six streams
that flow to pleasure are mighty,
is swept away by lustful thoughts.
The streams flow everywhere;
a weed springs up and remains.
Seeing this weed that has been born,
cut the root with wisdom.
A personage’s joys
flow from senses and cravings.
Seekers of happiness, bent on pleasure,
continue to be reborn and grow old.
People governed by thirst,
crawl about like a trapped rabbit.
Bound and fettered, for a long time
they return to pain time and again.
People governed by thirst,
crawl about like a trapped rabbit.
That’s why one who longs for dispassion
should dispel thirst.
Unsnarled, they set out for the jungle,
then they run right back to the jungle they left behind.
Just look at this individual!
Freed, they run to bondage.
The attentive say that shackle is not strong
that’s made of iron, wood, or knots.