To Sāriputta

"Never have I seen before,"

*(Venerable Sāriputta said,)*

"nor heard from anyone,

a teacher of such graceful speech,

come from Tusita to lead the gathering.

To the world and its gods

he appears as the clear-sighted one.

He dispelled all darkness,

alone he reached delight.

To that Buddha — unattached, such a one,

honest, come to lead the community —

on behalf of the many bound here,

I've come with a question.

For a monk weary of it all,

taking to a solitary seat —

the root of a tree, a charnel ground,

or a cave in the mountains —

in these various lodgings,

how many terrors are there

that a monk shouldn't tremble at,

in their silent dwelling?

How many adversities are there in the world

for one walking toward the place not yet reached,

that a monk should overcome

in their remote dwelling?

How should they speak?

What alms-resort should they keep here?

What precepts and practices

should a resolute monk uphold?

Having taken up what training —

unified, alert, mindful —

would they purge their own stains,

like a smith refining silver?"

"What's at ease for one weary of it all,"

*(the Buddha said to Sāriputta,)*

"taking to an empty seat or lodging —

wanting full awakening, in line with the teaching —

that I'll tell you, as I know it.

The wise shouldn't fear five things,

the mindful monk, walking within limits:

flies, gnats, snakes,

human encounters, four-legged beasts.

Nor should they tremble at those of other ways,

seeing the many threats they pose.

And further adversities,

the goodness-seeker should overcome.

Touched by illness, by hunger,

they should bear cold and bitter heat.

Touched many ways, the homeless one

should make their effort firm.

They mustn't steal, mustn't lie.

With love let them touch the trembling and the firm.

Should they notice any clouding of mind,

they should drive it off as Māra's side.

They mustn't fall to anger or arrogance.

Digging out their roots, they should stand firm.

Dear things or hateful things, both —

they should surely overcome.

Wisdom first, rejoicing in what's good —

they should suppress those adversities.

Overcome unease in the remote dwelling.

Overcome four kinds of lament:

'What will I eat? Where will I eat?

I slept badly! Where will I sleep tonight?'

These lamenting thoughts —

the trainee, the homeless wanderer, should drive out.

Getting food and clothing in their time,

they should know moderation, for contentment's sake.

Guarded in these, walking restrained in town —

provoked, they don't speak harshly.

Eyes down, no wandering feet,

deep in meditation, wide awake —

grounded in equanimity, composed —

they cut off the haunt of thought and fidget.

Rebuked, the mindful one welcomes it.

Toward fellow monks, they break the hardness.

Their good speech is never excess.

They don't aim to set people talking.

And five more defilements in the world

the mindful one should train to tame:

in sights, sounds, tastes,

smells, and touches — they overcome passion.

Subduing desire in these things,

the mindful monk, mind well freed —

rightly investigating the teaching in time,

unified, banishes the darkness."