The Cave

Stuck in the cave, thickly covered,

a person stands sunk in delusion.

Such a person is far from detachment —

sensual pleasures in this world are hard to leave behind.

Their cause is desire, bound to the pleasure of existence.

Hard to release, no one else can free them.

Looking back or looking forward,

they yearn for these pleasures, or for earlier ones.

Greedy for sensual pleasures, lost in them, deluded,

tight-fisted, settled in what is wrong —

led to suffering, they wail:

"What will we be when we die?"

So a person should train right here —

whatever they know to be wrong in the world,

they shouldn't go wrong over it.

The wise say: this life is short.

I see them trembling in the world,

these people, given to craving for further existences.

Lesser persons wail in the jaws of death,

still not free of craving for more and more existence.

See them trembling over what they call "mine" —

like fish in shallow water, the stream gone dry.

Seeing this too, one should live without "mine,"

not clinging to existence.

Driving out desire for this world and the next,

fully understanding sense-contact, no longer greedy,

doing nothing they would blame themselves for —

the wise are not stained by beliefs and traditions.

Understanding perception fully, the sage may cross the flood,

unstained by possessions —

arrow drawn out, ever vigilant,

wanting neither this world nor the next.