Ven. Sujato, Subhā-jīvaka-amba-vanikā, Therīgāthā: "Verses of the Elder Nuns," The Book of the Thirties (Thig. vv.14.1); Amber Larson and Dhr. Seven (eds.), Wisdom Quarterly
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| "Lust is in the eye of the holder"? Isn't that beholder? - No, that's beauty. This is lust. |
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Subhā of Jīvaka’s Mango Grove
Going to Jīvaka lovely
mango grove, the nun Subhā
was blocked by a rascal.
So Subhā said to him:
“What harm have I done you
that you stand in my way?
Sir, it’s improper that a man
should touch a woman who has gone forth.
This training was taught by the Awakened One;
It is a serious offense in my Teacher’s Doctrine and Discipline.
I am pure and rid of blemishes,
So why stand you in my way?
One whose mind is defiled toward one undefiled,
One who is lustful toward one free of lust,
Unblemished, my heart is freed in every respect,
So why stand you in my way?”
“You’re young. you’re flawless,
What has going forth done for you?
Toss off those saffron robes;
Come instead, play in the blossom grove!
Everywhere, the scent of flowers wafts sweetly
Born of the flowering woods.
The start of spring is a happy time;
Come and play in the blossom grove!
Trees crested with flowers
Cry out in the breeze.
What kind of fun will you have
If you plunge into those woods all alone?
Frequented by packs of predators
And cows [elephants] aroused by rutting bulls,
You wish to go without companion
Into the deserted, awe-inspiring forest.
Like a shining doll of gold,
Like a nymph wandering in a park of colorful vines,
Your matchless beauty will shine
In graceful clothes of exquisite muslin.
I’ll be under your sway,
If we stay in the forest.
I love no creature more than you,
O pixie, with such bashful eyes.
Were you to take up my invitation —
'Come, be happy, and live in a house' —
You’ll stay in a longhouse sheltered from wind;
Let the maids look to your needs.
Dressed in exquisite muslin,
Put on garlands and cosmetics.
I’ll make all sorts of adornments for you,
of gold and gems and pearls.
Climb onto a rich bed,
Its coverlet clean and nice,
With a new woolen mattress,
Fragrant, besprinkled with sandalwood.
As a blue lily risen from the water
Remains untouched by men,
So, too, O chaste and wholesome lady,
Your limbs grow old unshared.”
“This carcass, full of putrefaction, swells
The charnel ground, for its nature is to fall apart.
What do you think is so essential in it
That you stare at me so crazily?”
“Your eyes are like those of a doe,
Or a pixie in the mountains.
Seeing them,
My sense desire grows all the more.
Set in your flawless face of golden sheen,
Your eyes compare to a blue lily’s bud.
Seeing them,
My sensual excitement grows all the more.
Though you may wander far, I shall still think of you,
With your lashes long and your vision clear.
I love no eyes more than yours,
O pixie, with such bashful eyes.”
“You’re setting out down the wrong road!
You’re looking to take the moon for a plaything!
You’re trying to leap over Mount Sumeru!
You are hunting a child of the Buddha!
For in this world with all its devas [and humans]
There will be no more lust anywhere in me.
I do not even know what kind it could be,
It’s been uprooted stem and all by the Path.
Cast out like sparks from fiery coals,
It’s worth no more than a bowl of poison.
I do not even see what kind it could be;
It’s been uprooted stem and all by the Path.
Well may you try to seduce the type of woman
Who has not reflected on these things,
Or who has never attended to the Teacher:
But this is a woman who knows: now you’re in trouble!
No matter if I am reviled or praised,
Or feel pleasure or pain: I stay mindful.
Knowing that conditions are ugly,
My mind does not cling to anything.
I am a disciple of the Awakened One,
Riding in the carriage of the Eightfold Path.
The dart pulled out, free of defilements,
I am happy to have reached an empty place.
I’ve seen brightly painted
Dolls and wooden puppets
Tied to sticks and strings
And made to dance in many ways.
But when the sticks and strings are taken off —
Loosed, disassembled, broken,
Irrecoverable, stripped to parts —
On what could the mind be transfixed?
That’s what my body is really like;
Without those things it can’t go on.
This being so,
On what could the mind be transfixed?
It’s like when one sees a mural on a wall,
Painted with orpiment,
And one’s vision becomes confused,
Falsely perceiving that it is a person.
Though it’s as worthless as a magic trick,
Or a golden tree beheld in a dream,
One blindly chases what is hollow,
Like a puppet show among the people.
An eye is just a ball in a socket,
With a pupil in the middle, and tears.
Mucus comes from there as well,
And so different eye-parts are lumped all together.”
The pretty lady ripped out her eye.
With no attachment in her mind at all, she said:
“Come now, take this eye,”
And gave it to the man right then.
At that very moment he lost his lust
And asked for her forgiveness:
“May you be well, O chaste and wholesome lady;
Such a thing will not happen again.
Attacking a person such as this
Is like holding on to a blazing fire
Or seizing a deadly viper [by the tail]!
May you be well; please forgive me!”
When that nun was released
She went to the presence of the Buddha.
Seeing the one with excellent marks of merit,
Her eye [magically] became just as it was before.
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