Dhammapada Chapter 4 – Blossoms Who will penetrate this earth and this realm of death with all its gods?
Who will ferret out the well-taught Dhamma-saying as the skillful flower-arranger,
The flower?
The learner on the path will penetrate this earth and this realm of death with all its gods.
The learner on the path will ferret out the well-taught Dhamma-saying as the skillful flower-arranger,
The flower.
Knowing this body is like foam,
Realizing its nature a mirage.
Cutting out the blossoms of Mara,
You go where the king of death can't see.
The man immersed in gathering blossoms,
His heart distracted,
Death sweeps him away as a great flood,
A village,
Asleep.
The man immersed in gathering blossoms,
His heart distracted,
Insatiable in sensual pleasures,
The end-maker holds him under his sway.
As a bee,
Without harming the blossom,
Its color,
Its fragrance,
Takes its nectar and flies away,
So should the sage go through a village.
Focus,
Not on the rudeness of others,
Not on what they've done or left undone,
But on what you have and haven't done yourself.
Just like a blossom,
Bright-colored but scentless,
A well-spoken word is fruitless when not carried out.
Just like a blossom,
Bright-colored and full of scent,
A well-spoken word is fruitful when well carried out.
Just as from a heap of flowers many garland strands can be made,
Even so one born and mortal should do with what's born and is mortal,
Many a skillful thing.
No flower's scent goes against the wind,
Not sandalwood,
Jasmine,
Tagara,
But the scent of the good does go against the wind.
The person of integrity wafts a scent in every direction.
Sandalwood,
Tagara,
Lotus,
And jasmine,
Among these scents the scent of virtue is unsurpassed.
Next to nothing,
This scent,
Sandalwood,
Tagara,
While the scent of virtuous conduct wafts to the devas,
Supreme.
Those consummate in virtue,
Dwelling in heedfulness,
Released through right-knowing,
Mara can't follow their tracks.
As in a pile of rubbish,
Cast by the side of a highway,
A lotus might grow,
Clean-smelling,
Pleasing the heart.
So in the midst of the rubbish-like,
People run of the mill and blind,
Their dazzles with discernment,
The disciple of the rightly self-awakened one.
