snp.4.16 Suttanipata

Sāriputta asks the Buddha

Sāriputta
Not seen before by me,
nor heard by anyone:
such sweetly-spoken Teacher
from Tusita came to lead a group.

One by himself attained to bliss,
all darkness he dispelled,
so that the One-With-Eyes be seen
by world together with the gods.

One’s who’s “Thus”, the unattached,
that Buddha undeceptive,
with many disciples, devotees,
for them I ask a question.

For a monk avoiding society,
seeking out a lonely place—
bone yards, at the base of trees,
or caves within the mountain wastes—

Living-places high or low,
How many are the terrors there,
that a monk in his silent place
trembles not at all?

How many are the troubles here
for a monk to overcome,
while living in a place remote,
or going to the Ungone-Point.

What ways of speaking would be his?
What place should he frequent?
What sorts of rules, kinds of vows,
For the monk with mind intent?

What is the training he adopts,
one-pointed, mindful, wise;
to blow away all blemishes,
as does a smith with silver?

Buddha
As One who Knows I’ll explain to you,
what’s pleasant for you practicing avoidance,
who live and who rest in a lonely abode,
wishing Awakening in keeping with Dharma.

Within limits the mindful monk practices,
then of five fears is this wise one not afraid:
March-flies and mosquitoes, of slithering snakes,
of men’s assaults, and fierce four-footed beasts.

Nor be disturbed by those with differing Dharma,
even having seen their many perils,
further then, this seeker of the good
will overcome all fearfulness too.

Afflicted by sicknesses, hunger as well,
the cold and strong heat he should endure,
by these many touches should he be unmoved,
having energy stirred and striving with strength.

Neither should he steal, nor should he tell lies,
but let love suffuse the fearful and the unafraid,
and when his mind is agitated let him know
“This should be removed”—it’s on the Dark One’s side.

Into the power of anger and of arrogance
he shouldn’t fall, but firm, eradicate their roots,
all being attached he overcomes complete,
all that is dear to him, all that repels.

With wisdom esteemed, with joy purified,
removing supports for all fearfulnesses,
let him conquer dislike for his lone lodging-place,
and conquer the four that cause him to lament:

“Alas, what shall I eat” and “where indeed eat it”,
“last night l slept badly” and “where sleep today”—
one-in-training, a wanderer, of no flag the follower
should such thoughts let go, leading to lamentation.

Satisfied, receiving timely food and clothes,
knowing moderation in them, and
protected by them, in a village he’s restrained
though roughly he’s addressed, speaks no harsh word.

With eyes cast down, feet not longing-guided,
to jhāna devoted, very watchful he should be,
let him grow in equanimity with mind composed,
check his scruples, how he inclines to doubt.

With words of reproof let the mindful one rejoice,
and shatter his scorn for his fellow-celibates;
and utter skilful words at the proper time,
and think not upon views and beliefs of common folk.

And then in the world, there are the dusty five
in which the mindful one guided, trains himself well,
lust overcoming to bodies and to sounds,
to tastes, to perfumes and touches too.

And when in these things he has guided desire,
mindful, that bhikkhu of a well-liberated mind,
then he in due time thoroughly examining Dharma,
with mind become one he shall the darkness rend.

Thus the Master spoke.

- Translator: Laurence Khantipalo Mills

---

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.”