Dhp XVIII : Impurities

Just as a silver smith

step by

step,

bit by

bit,

moment to

moment,

blows away the impurities

of molten silver–

so the wise man, his own.

Just as rust

–iron’s impurity–

eats the very iron

from which it is born,

so the deeds

of one who lives slovenly

lead him on

to a bad destination.

No recitation: the ruinous impurity

of chants.

No initiative: of a household.

Indolence: of beauty.

Heedlessness: of a guard.

Life’s easy to live

for someone unscrupulous,

cunning as a crow,

corrupt, back-biting,

forward, & brash;

but for someone who’s constantly

scrupulous, cautious,

observant, sincere,

pure in his livelihood,

clean in his pursuits,

it’s hard.

Whoever kills, lies, steals,

goes to someone else’s wife,

& is addicted to intoxicants,

digs himself up

by the root

right here in this world.

People give

in line with their faith,

in line with conviction.

Whoever gets flustered

at food & drink given to others,

attains no concentration

by day or by night.

There’s no fire like passion,

no seizure like anger,

no snare like delusion,

no river like craving.

It’s easy to see

the errors of others,

but hard to see

your own.

You winnow like chaff

the errors of others,

but conceal your own–

like a cheat, an unlucky throw.

There’s no trail in space,

no outside contemplative.

People are smitten

with objectification,

but devoid of objectification are

the Tathagatas.