Cattāri Brahmavihārā

Short indeed is this life—

within a hundred years one dies,

and, if any live longer

then they die of decay.

People grieve for what is “mine”:

though possessions are not permanent

and subject to destruction—

see this and homeless dwell.

In death it’s all abandoned,

yet still some think “it’s mine”;

knowing this, the wise to me devoted

should stoop not making it “owned”.

As one who’s waking then sees not

the things that happened in sleep;

so the beloved are not seen—

departed and done their time.

People now are seen and heard

and this are called by name,

but alone will the name remain

in speaking of those gone.

In “mine-making” greedy, they do not let go of sorrow, lamenting and avarice,

therefore sages leaving possessions

freely wander, seers of security.

For one practicing in solitude,

keeping company with secluded mind,

of such a one are all agreed:

“In being he’ll not be seen again”.

In all matters the sage is unsupported,

nothing that makes dear, nor undear,

sorrow and avarice do not stain that one,

As water does not stay upon a leaf.

As a water-drop on lotus plant,

as water does not stain a lotus flower,

even so the sage is never stained

by seen, heard, or whatever’s cognized.

Certainly the wise do not conceive

upon the seen, the heard, and cognized,

nor wish for purity through another,

for they are not attached nor yet displeased.