Bhaddiya has plucked out craving, root and all,
and in a jungle thicket
on the far side of the Wild Mango Monastery,
he practices absorption; he is truly well-favoured.
Some delight in clay drums,
in arched harps, and in cymbals.
But here, at the foot of a tree,
I delight in the Buddha’s teaching.
If the Buddha were to grant me one wish,
and I were to get what I wished for,
I’d choose for the whole world
constant mindfulness of the body.
Those who’ve judged me on appearance,
and those swayed by my voice,
are full of desire and greed;
they don’t know me.
Not knowing what’s inside,
nor seeing what’s outside,
the fool shut in on every side,
gets carried away by a voice.
Not knowing what’s inside,
but discerning what’s outside,
seeing the fruit outside,
they’re also carried away by a voice.
Understanding what’s inside,
and discerning what’s outside,
of unhindered vision,
they don’t get carried away by a voice.