snp.4.16 Suttanipata

With Sāriputta

“Never before have I seen,”
said Venerable Sāriputta,
“or heard from anyone
about a teacher of such graceful speech,
come from Tusita heaven to lead a community.
To all the world with its gods
he appears as a seer
who has dispelled all darkness,
and alone attained to bliss.
On behalf of the many here still bound,
I have come seeking with a question
to that Buddha, unattached and impartial,
free of deceit, come to lead a community.
Suppose a mendicant who loathes attachment
frequents a lonely lodging—
the root of a tree, a charnel ground,
on mountains, or in caves.
In these many different lodgings,
how many dangers are there
at which a mendicant in their silent lodging
ought not tremble?
On their journey to the untrodden place,
how many adversities are there in the world
that must they overcome
in their remote lodging?
What ways of speech should they have?
Of what kind is their alms resort?
What precepts and vows
should a resolute mendicant uphold?
Having undertaken what training,
unified, alert, and mindful,
would they purge their own stains,
like a smith smelting silver?”
“If one who loathes attachment frequents a lonely lodging,”
said the Buddha to Sāriputta,
“in their search for awakening—as accords with the teaching—
I shall tell you, as I understand it,
what is comfortable for them.
A wise one, a mindful mendicant living on the periphery
should not be afraid of five perils:
flies, mosquitoes, snakes,
human contact, or four-legged creatures.
Nor should they fear followers of other teachings,
even having seen the many threats they pose.
And then one seeking the good
should overcome any other adversities.
Afflicted by illness and hunger,
they should endure cold and excessive heat.
Though afflicted by many such things, the homeless one
should exert energy, firmly striving.
They must not steal or lie;
and should touch creatures firm or frail with love.
If they notice any clouding of the mind,
they should dispel it as Māra’s ally.
They must not fall under the sway of anger or arrogance;
having dug them out by the root, they would stand firm.
Then, withstanding likes and dislikes,
they would overcome.
Putting wisdom in the foremost place, rejoicing in goodness,
they would put an end to those adversities.
They’d vanquish discontent in their remote lodging.
And they’d vanquish the four lamentations:
‘What will I eat? Where will I eat?
Oh, I slept badly! Where will I sleep?’
The trainee, the homeless migrant,
would dispel these lamentable thoughts.
Receiving food and clothes in due season,
they would know moderation for the sake of contentment.
Guarded in these things, walking restrained in the village,
they wouldn’t speak harshly even when provoked.
Eyes downcast, not footloose,
devoted to absorption, they’d be very wakeful.
Grounded in equanimity, serene,
they should cut off worrisome habits of thought.
A mindful one should welcome repoach,
breaking up hard-heartedness towards their spiritual companions.
They may utter skillful speech, but not for too long,
and they shouldn’t provoke people to blame.
And there are five more taints in the world,
for the removal of which the mindful one should train,
vanquishing desire for sights,
sounds, flavors, smells, and touches.
Having removed desire for these things,
a mindful mendicant, their heart well freed,
rightly investigating the Dhamma in good time,
unified, would banish the darkness.”