English
Chapter on Old Age 146. What laughter, what joy, when always burning? Covered by darkness, why seek no light? 147. See this painted image, a body full of wounds, diseased, full of many thoughts, for which there is no permanence. 148. This form is worn out, a nest of diseases, fragile; this putrid mass breaks apart, for life ends in death. 149. These scattered bones, like gourds in autumn, greyish-white bones, seeing them, what delight? 150. A city made of bones, plastered with flesh and blood; where old age and death, and pride and contempt are deposited. 151. Royal chariots, well-painted, wear out, and the body too approaches old age; but the Dhamma of the good does not age, thus the good declare to the good. 152. This man of little learning grows old like an ox; his flesh increases, his wisdom does not grow. 153. Through many births in saṃsāra I have wandered, without finding, seeking the house-builder; painful is birth again and again. 154. O house-builder, you are seen! You shall not build a house again. All your rafters are broken, the ridge-pole is dismantled. The mind, having reached the unconditioned, has attained the destruction of cravings. 155. Not having led a holy life, not having gained wealth in youth, they brood like old cranes, in a pond with no fish. 156. Not having led a holy life, not having gained wealth in youth, they lie like spent arrows, lamenting past times. The Chapter on Old Age, the eleventh, is finished.