English
in the autumn season, when a heavy rain falls, a water bubble in the water arises and ceases. A man with good sight would see it, observe it, examine it carefully. As he sees it, observes it, examines it carefully, it would appear empty to him, it would appear hollow to him, it would appear without substance to him. What substance, monks, could there be in a water bubble? Even so, monks, whatever feeling there is, past, future, present… whether far or near, a monk sees it, observes it, examines it carefully. As he sees it, observes it, examines it carefully, it appears empty to him, it appears hollow to him, it appears without substance to him. appears not. What indeed, monks, could be the essence of feeling? Just as, monks, in the last month of summer, at midday, a mirage shimmers. A man with good sight would see it, examine it, investigate it wisely. As he sees it, examines it, investigates it wisely, it would appear empty, it would appear hollow… …What indeed, monks, could be the essence of a mirage? Even so, monks, any perception whatsoever… … Just as, monks, a man in search of essence, seeking essence, looking for essence, taking a sharp axe, would enter a forest. There he would see a large banana trunk, straight, fresh, without a core shoot. He would cut it at the root; having cut it at the root, he would cut it at the top; having cut it at the top, he would peel off the layers of leaves. As he peels off its layers of leaves, he would not find even pith, much less essence! A man with good sight would see it, examine it, investigate it wisely. As he sees it, examines it, investigates it wisely, it would appear empty, it would appear hollow, it would appear without essence. What indeed, monks, could be the essence in a banana trunk? Even so, monks, whatever formations there are, past, future, present… …whether far or near, a monk sees them, examines them, investigates them wisely. As he sees them, examines them, investigates them wisely, they appear empty, they appear hollow, they appear without essence. What indeed, monks, could be the essence in formations? Just as, monks, a magician or a magician's apprentice would display a magic show at a crossroads. A man with good sight would see it, examine it, investigate it wisely. As he sees it, examines it, investigates it wisely… when wisely examined, it would appear empty, it would appear hollow, it would appear without substance. For what substance, bhikkhus, could there be in an illusion? In the same way, bhikkhus, whatever consciousness, whether past, future, or present… whether far or near, a bhikkhu sees it, reflects upon it, wisely examines it. As he sees it, reflects upon it, wisely examines it, it appears empty, it appears hollow, it appears without substance. For what substance, bhikkhus, could there be in consciousness? Seeing thus, bhikkhus, the instructed noble disciple becomes disenchanted with form, disenchanted with feeling, disenchanted with perception, disenchanted with volitional formations, disenchanted with consciousness. Being disenchanted, he becomes dispassionate; through dispassion, he is liberated. When liberated, there is the knowledge: ‘Liberated.’ …He understands: ‘There is no more for this state of being.’” This the Blessed One said. Having said this, the Fortunate One, the Teacher, further said: “Form is like a lump of foam, feeling like a bubble; perception like a mirage, volitional formations like a plantain trunk; and consciousness is like an illusion, thus taught by the Kinsman of the Sun. “However one reflects, however one wisely examines; it becomes empty, it becomes hollow, for one who sees it wisely. “Concerning this body, taught by the one of vast wisdom; the abandoning of three things, see form cast away. “Life-span, warmth, and consciousness, when they abandon this body; then it lies discarded, a meal for others, unconscious. “Such is this continuum, this illusion, prattling foolishly; this is called a slayer, no substance is found in it. “Thus should a bhikkhu, ardent in effort, contemplate the aggregates; by day or by night, mindful and clearly comprehending. “He should abandon all fetters, make a refuge for himself; he should wander like one whose head is aflame, desiring the deathless state.” The Third. 4. The Discourse on the Lump of Cow Dung 96. Thus have I heard. On one occasion the Blessed One was dwelling at Sāvatthī… Seated to one side, that bhikkhu… The bhikkhu said to the Blessed One: "Is there, venerable sir, any form that is permanent, stable, eternal, not subject to change, and will remain just so for all time? Is there, venerable sir, any feeling that is permanent, stable, eternal, not subject to change, and will remain just so for all time? Is there, venerable sir, any perception that perception... Is there, venerable sir, any volitional formations that are permanent, stable, eternal, not subject to change, and will remain just so for all time? Is there, venerable sir, any consciousness, that is permanent, stable, eternal, not subject to change, and will remain just so for all time?" "There is not, bhikkhu, any form that is permanent, stable, eternal, not subject to change, and will remain just so for all time. There is not, bhikkhu, any feeling... any perception... any volitional formations... any consciousness, that is permanent, stable, eternal, not subject to change, and will remain just so for all time." Then the Blessed One, taking a small lump of cow dung in his hand, said to that bhikkhu: "Even this much, bhikkhu, of an acquired self-existence is not permanent, stable, eternal, not subject to change, and will remain just so for all time. If even this much, bhikkhu, of an acquired self-existence were permanent, stable, eternal, not subject to change, then this holy life would not be known for the complete destruction of suffering. But because, bhikkhu, even this much of an acquired self-existence is not permanent, stable, eternal, not subject to change, therefore the holy life is known for the complete destruction of suffering. "Formerly, bhikkhu, I was a king, a khattiya, anointed. To me, bhikkhu, being a king, a khattiya, anointed, there were eighty-four thousand cities, with Kusāvatī as the capital. To me, bhikkhu, being a king, a khattiya, anointed, four Eighty-four thousand palaces there were, led by the Palace of Dhamma. To me, O monk, being a king, an anointed khattiya, eighty-four thousand gabled houses there were, led by the Great Array Gabled House. To me, O monk, being a king, an anointed khattiya, eighty-four thousand couches there were, made of ivory, made of heartwood, made of gold, covered with long-haired rugs, covered with white wool rugs, covered with embroidered rugs, with the finest deer-skin covers, with canopies above, with crimson pillows at both ends. To me, O monk, being a king, an anointed khattiya, eighty-four thousand elephants there were, adorned with gold, with golden banners, covered with golden nets, led by Uposatha, the king of elephants. To me, O monk, being a king, an anointed khattiya, eighty-four thousand horses there were, adorned with gold, with golden banners, covered with golden nets, led by Valāhaka, the king of horses. To me, O monk, being a king, an anointed khattiya, eighty-four thousand chariots there were, adorned with gold, with golden banners, covered with golden nets, led by the Vejayanta chariot. To me, O monk, being a king, an anointed khattiya, eighty-four thousand jewels there were, led by the Wish-Fulfilling Gem. To me, O monk, ... eighty-four thousand women there were, led by Queen Subhaddā. To me, O monk, ... eighty-four thousand khattiyas there were, attending, led by the Chief Minister Gem. To me, O monk, ... eighty-four thousand cows there were, whose milk flowed like fine cloth, and was collected in bronze vessels. To me, O monk, ... eighty-four thousand crores of garments there were, of fine linen, of fine silk, of fine wool, of fine cotton. To me, O monk, ... There were eighty-four thousand dishes of food. Morning and evening, food was brought. "Of those eighty-four thousand cities, bhikkhu, there was just one city where I then resided— Kusāvatī, the royal capital. Of those eighty-four thousand palaces, bhikkhu, there was just one palace where I then resided— the Dhamma Palace. Of those eighty-four thousand pinnacled houses, bhikkhu, there was just one pinnacled house where I then resided— the Mahābyūha pinnacled house. Of those eighty-four thousand couches, bhikkhu, there was just one couch that I then used— made of ivory, or of heartwood, or of gold, or of silver. Of those eighty-four thousand elephants, bhikkhu, there was just one elephant that I then mounted— Uposatha, the king of elephants. Of those eighty-four thousand horses, bhikkhu, there was just one horse that I then mounted— Valāhaka, the king of horses. Of those eighty-four thousand chariots, bhikkhu, there was just one chariot that I then mounted— the Vejayanta chariot. Of those eighty-four thousand women, bhikkhu, there was just one woman who then attended me— a khattiyānī or a velāmikā. Of those eighty-four thousand sets of clothes, bhikkhu, there was just one pair of garments that I then wore— fine linen, or fine silk, or fine wool, or fine cotton. Of those eighty-four thousand dishes of food, bhikkhu, there was just one dish of food from which I ate, a nāḷi of rice at most, and suitable curries. Thus, bhikkhu, all those formations are past, n ceased, changed. Thus impermanent, indeed, monk, are formations. Thus unstable, indeed, monk, are formations. Thus without comfort, indeed, monk, are formations. To this extent, monk, it is enough to be disenchanted with all formations, enough to be dispassionate, enough to be liberated. The Fourth. 5. The Discourse on the Fingernail-Tip 97. At Savatthi. Seated to one side, that monk said to the Blessed One: “Is there, indeed, venerable sir, any form that is permanent,