Ambapālī ’s Verses
At the time of the Buddha, Ambapālī was an exquisitely beautiful and famous courtesan. She had a son who became an eminent elder in the Buddha’s monastic order. One day she heard her son give a discourse on Dhamma and was inspired by its truth to renounce the world and ordain as a bhikkhunī. Through observation of the decay of her once-beautiful body, she understood the law of impermanence to its full extent and became an arahant.
This selection of her verses describes the changes that transform the body in old age.
My hair was black, the color of bees, each hair ending in a curl. Now, on account of old age, they have become like fibers of hemp. Not otherwise is the word of the Speaker of Truth.
Covered with flowers, my head was fragrant like a casket of delicate scent. Now, on account of old age, it smells like the fur of a dog. Not otherwise is the word of the Speaker of Truth.
Formerly my eyebrows were beautiful, like crescents well painted by an artist’s hand. Now, on account of old age, they droop down, lined by wrinkles. Not otherwise is the word of the Speaker of Truth.
Brilliant and beautiful like jewels, my eyes were dark blue and long in shape. Now, hit hard by old age, their beauty has utterly vanished.
Not otherwise is the word of the Speaker of Truth. Formerly my teeth looked beautiful, the color of plantain buds. Now, on account of old age, they are broken and yellow. Not otherwise is the word of the Speaker of Truth. Formerly my two breasts were beautiful, swollen, round, compact, and high.Now they hang down and sag, like a pair of empty water bags. Not otherwise is the wordof the Speaker of Truth.
Formerly my body was beautiful, like a well-polished sheet of gold. Now it is all covered with wrinkles.Not otherwise is the word of the Speaker of Truth.Formerly my feet looked beautiful, as if made of cotton wool. Now, because of old age, they are cracked and wrinkled all over. Not otherwise is the word of the Speaker of Truth. Such is this body, now decrepit, the abode of a jumble of suffering. It is nothing but an aged house from which the plaster has fallen. Not otherwise is the word of the Speaker of Truth.
—Therīgāthā 13.252–270,
Amadeo Solé-Leris, translator
Bài viết này được trích từ cuốn sách The Art of Dying – Thiền Sư S.N.Goenka và nhiều tác giả khác.
