11. Old Age · Translation: Bhikkhu Sujato, SuttaCentral
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whatKo
indeednu
laughterhāso
what joykimānando,
continuallyniccaṁ
burningpajjalite
whensati;
by darknessAndhakārena
swathedonaddhā,
a lightpadīpaṁ
notna
would you seekgavesatha.
What is joy, what is laughter, when the flames are ever burning? Swathed in darkness, would you not seek a light?
seePassa
fancycittakataṁ
puppetbimbaṁ,
built of soresarukāyaṁ
built upsamussitaṁ;
diseasedĀturaṁ
obsessed overbahusaṅkappaṁ,
of whichyassa
there is notnatthi
lastingdhuvaṁ
stabilityṭhiti.
See this fancy puppet, a body built of sores, diseased, obsessed over, in which nothing lasts at all.
worn out is thisParijiṇṇamidaṁ
bodyrūpaṁ,
a nest of diseaseroganīḷaṁ
frailpabhaṅguraṁ;
it breaks apartBhijjati
foul carcasspūtisandeho,
ends in death, formaraṇantañhi
lifejīvitaṁ.
This body is decrepit and frail, a nest of disease. This foul carcass falls apart, for life ends in death.
these whichYānimāni
tossed awayapatthāni,
like dried gourdsalābūneva
in the autumnsārade;
dove-greyKāpotakāni
bonesaṭṭhīni,
thosetāni
having seendisvāna
whatkā
joyrati.
These dove-grey bones are tossed away like dried gourds in the autumn— what joy is there in such a sight?
of bonesAṭṭhīnaṁ
citynagaraṁ
madekataṁ,
plastered with flesh and bloodmaṁsalohitalepanaṁ;
whereYattha
old agejarā
andca
deathmaccu
andca,
conceitmāno
contemptmakkho
andca
stashed awayohito.
In this city built of bones, plastered with flesh and blood, old age and death are stashed away, along with conceit and contempt.
they wear outJīranti
indeedve
royal chariotsrājarathā
fancysucittā,
and thenAtho
even the bodysarīrampi
old agejaraṁ
it goes toupeti;
but of the goodSatañca
the truthdhammo
notna
old agejaraṁ
it goes toupeti,
the goodSanto
indeedhave
to the goodsabbhi
they proclaimpavedayanti.
Fancy chariots of kings wear out, and even this body gets old. But the truth of the good never gets old— so the good proclaim to the good.
of little learningAppassutāyaṁ
personpuriso,
like an oxbalībaddhova
agesjīrati;
fleshMaṁsāni
histassa
growvaḍḍhanti,
wisdompaññā
histassa
notna
growsvaḍḍhati.
A person of little learning ages like an ox— their flesh grows, but not their wisdom.
through countless rebirths' wanderingAnekajātisaṁsāraṁ,
I have journeyedsandhāvissaṁ
without rewardanibbisaṁ;
the house-builderGahakāraṁ
searching forgavesanto,
painfuldukkhā
is birthjāti
again and againpunappunaṁ.
Transmigrating through countless rebirths, I’ve journeyed without reward, searching for the house-builder; painful is birth again and again.
house-builder!Gahakāraka
you are seendiṭṭhosi,
againpuna
a housegehaṁ
notna
you will makekāhasi;
allSabbā
yourte
raftersphāsukā
brokenbhaggā,
the roof-peakgahakūṭaṁ
demolishedvisaṅkhataṁ;
set on demolitionVisaṅkhāragataṁ
the mindcittaṁ,
of cravingstaṇhānaṁ
has reached the endkhayamajjhagā.
I’ve seen you, house-builder! You won’t build a house again! Your rafters are all broken, your roof-peak demolished. The mind, set on demolition, has reached the end of cravings.
not having livedAcaritvā
the holy lifebrahmacariyaṁ,
not having obtainedaladdhā
in youthyobbane
wealthdhanaṁ;
like old cranesJiṇṇakoñcāva
they broodjhāyanti,
bereft of fishkhīṇamaccheva
in a pondpallale.
When young they spurned the spiritual path and failed to earn any wealth. Now they brood like old cranes in a pond bereft of fish.
not having livedAcaritvā
the holy life,brahmacariyaṁ,
not having gainedaladdhā
in youthyobbane
wealth;dhanaṁ;
they lieSenti
like shot arrows,cāpātikhīṇāva,
things pastpurāṇāni
bemoaning.anutthunaṁ.
the Old Age chapterJarāvaggo
the eleventh.ekādasamo.
When young they spurned the spiritual path and failed to earn any wealth. Now they lie like spent arrows, bemoaning over things past.
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