I.11 — Mutta {v. 11}
So freed! So thoroughly freed am I! —from three crooked things set free:
from mortar, pestle,
& crooked old husband.
Having uprooted the craving
that leads to becoming,
I'm set free from aging & death.
Nach mé atá saor! Saor go hiomlán!
saor ó thrí rud chama:
tuairgnín is moirtéal
is mo shean-chéile cam.
Bhaineas-sa na mianta óna bpréamh
mianta is cúis le teacht chun bheith,
saor atáim ón tseanaois is ón mbás
7 — Dhamma {v. 17}
Wandering for alms —weak, leaning on a staff,
with trembling limbs —
I fell down right there on the ground.
Seeing the drawbacks of the body,
my mind was then
set free.
Ar fán is ag lorg déirce –
lag, cromtha ar bhachall,
mé ar ballchrith –
nár thiteas ansin i mo phleist.
Nuair ba léir dom míbhuntáistí na colainne,
saoradh m’aigne
fá dheoidh.
Vimala: The Former Courtesan
translated from the Pali by Thanissaro Bhikkhu © 1998
Intoxicated with my complexion
figure, beauty, & fame;
haughty with youth,
I despised other women.
Adorning this body
embellished to delude foolish men,
I stood at the door to the brothel:
a hunter with snare laid out.
I showed off my ornaments,
and revealed many a private part.
I worked my manifold magic,
laughing out loud at the crowd.
Today, wrapped in a double cloak,
my head shaven,
having wandered for alms,
I sit at the foot of a tree
and attain the state of no-thought.
All ties — human & divine — have been cut.
Having cast off all effluents,
cooled am I, unbound.
Iar-Bhean Luí
Ar meisce ag mo shnua,ag mo chruth dea-chumtha, m’áilleacht is mo chlú,
mórtas na hóige orm,
an ghráin agam ar mhná eile.
Mhaisíos an cholainn seo
chun cluain a chur ar amadáin,
Im’ sheasamh i ndoras na drúthlainne:
Fiagaí is dol.
Léiríos m’ornáidí do chách,
mo sheoda agam á nochtadh.
D’imríos cleasa draíochta ar an domhan,
is mé ag gáire os ard faoin slua.
Inniu, tá clóca dúbailte umam,
mo cheann bearrtha,
déirc á lorg agam sna ceithre hairde,
suímse anois faoi chrann
gan smaointe í an staid seo.
Gearradh an uile cheangal – daonna is diaga araon.
Ní theagmhaíonn salachar ar bith liom,
táim úr, gan chuing.
Belatthasisa (Thag 1.16) {Thag 16}
Just as a fine thoroughbred steed,with swishing tail & mane
runs with next-to-no effort,
so my days & nights
run with next-to-no effort
now that I've gained a happiness
not of the flesh.
Faoi mar a rithfeadh each folaíochta
gan dua dá laghad
a ruball is a mhoing á luascadh,
is mar sin a ritheann gan dua
mo chuid laethanta is oícheanta
anois agus an ríméad sin orm
nach den cholainn é.
Cittaka (Thag 1.22) {Thag 22}
Peacocks,crested, blue, with gorgeous necks,
cry out
in the Karamvi woods,
thrilled by the cold wind.
They awaken the sleeper
to meditate.
Péacóga,
círíneach, gorm, lena bpíb gleoite,
scairteann amach
sna coillte Karamvi:
is aoibhinn leo an ghaoth fhuar.
dúisíd an codlatán
chun machnaimh.
Sumangala (Thag 1.43) {Thag 43}
So freed! So freed!
So thoroughly freed am I
from three crooked things:
my sickles, my shovels, my plows.
Even if they were here,
right here,
I'd be done with them,
done.
Do jhana, Sumangala.
Do jhana, Sumangala.
Sumangala, stay heedful.
Nach saor atáim! Nach saor!
Saor go hiomlán atáim
ó na nithe cama sin:
an corrán, an tsluasaid, an céachta.
Fiú dá mbeidís anseo,
díreach anseo,
bheinnse réidh leo,
réidh.
Do jhana, Sumangala.
Do jhana, Sumangala.
Sumangala, bí aireach.
Vappa (Thag 1.61) {Thag 61}
One who sees
sees who sees,
sees who doesn't.
One who doesn't see
doesn't
see who sees
or who doesn't
An té a fheiceann
feiceann sé cé a fheiceann
feiceann cé nach bhfeiceann
An té nach bhfeiceann
ní fheiceann
an té a fheiceann
nó nach bhfeiceann
Makala
translated from the Pali by Thanissaro Bhikkhu © 2005
This swarthy woman*
— crow-like, enormous —
breaking a thigh & then the other
thigh,
breaking an arm & then the other
arm,
cracking open the head,
like a pot of curds,
she sits with them heaped up beside her.
Whoever, unknowing,
makes acquisitions
— the fool —
returns over & over
to suffering & stress.
So, discerning,
don't make acquisitions.
May I never lie
with my head cracked open
again.
*[preparing a corpse for cremation]
An bhean chrón seo*
í ar nós préacháin ollmhóir –
briseann ceathrú is ansin an ceann
eile,
géag á briseadh aici is ansin an ceann
eile,
an cloigeann á scoilteadh aici,
mar a bheadh pota grutha ann,
suíonn sí agus iad ina gcarn taobh léi
An té, gan fhios dó féin,
a shantaíonn seilbh ar rud
- an gamal –
tiocfaidh ar ais arís is arís eile
chuig fulaingt is strus.
Mar sin bí aireach
is ná santaigh seilbh ar aon ní.
Ní mian liomsa luí ansin arís
agus mo chloigeann
pléasctha.
*[corp á ullmhú aici le haghaidh a chréamtha]
