The wise one’s secret

Hey, listen!
I would like to tell you a secret…
What lies behind the wise one’s peaceful abiding,
The backbone of any sage’s ease and confidence.

Reviewing his own conduct,
The wise one looks at his hands sometimes,
And this thought comes to him,
“These hands don’t kill.”

From that thought joy and confidence spring.

He moves even the tiniest insects out of the way with care,
And puts them down where it is safe for them to pursue their journey.
When he does that the thought comes to him,
“These hands don’t harm.”

From that thought joy and confidence spring.

He got himself into the only battle worth fighting,
He isn’t looking for external enemies anymore.
A heartfelt wish often comes to him,
“Let me be a friend to this world.”

From that thought joy and confidence spring.

He observes strict conduct regarding what has not been offered,
And does not take anything even down to a blade of grass,
His gaze roams free of covetousness on what lies around,
And he is content with the bare necessities.

Upon seeing objects he used to cherish,
The thought comes to him,
“I used to seek and enjoy this,
But now like a bird, unburdened, I come and go as I wish.”

From that thought joy and confidence spring.

Having chosen a life of celibacy,
He doesn’t throw hints, hooks and flattery,
Nor does he seeks contact with others’ bodies.
But delights in people’s inner beauty.

The wise one is aware that there is a lot of noise in this world,
And seeks not to add more,
Therefore he guards his speech cautiously,
And speaks only what is useful, truthful, timely and kind.

He is aware of his negative tendencies,
And surrounds himself with good friends,
Together they practice cultivating and abandoning,
When he looks at them the thought comes to him,

“It is a gain for me that I’m living with companions like this!”

Hey, listen!

You might have heard some say about those gone forth,
“What a life full of rules and restrictions!”
But for the wise one, precepts and regulations,
Are medicine and undertaken happily.

Having realized through restraint and close attention,
The intrinsic pain of thirst,
And the danger of an unruly mind,
The wise one seeks to cool his fever and tame the untamed.

And when days left are less than days gone,
he looks at his old trembling hands thinking,
“These hands didn’t kill.”

When his tired body starts giving up,
he is surrounded by friends with affection for him,
“I guarded my speech and spoke with kindness.”

On his deathbed,
he easily gives away whatever small things he still possesses,
“Contentment was surely the best investment.”

This is with a confident and peaceful mind,
That he leaves this world,
And without a doubt wherever he goes next,
The fruits of his practice he will reap for a long time.

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