When anger surges, they drive it out, as with medicine a snake’s spreading venom. Such a mendicant sheds this world and the next, as a snake its old worn-out skin.
They’ve cut off greed entirely, like a lotus plucked flower and stalk. Such a mendicant sheds this world and the next, as a snake its old worn-out skin.
They’ve cut off craving entirely, drying up that swift-flowing stream. Such a mendicant sheds this world and the next, as a snake its old worn-out skin.
They’ve swept away conceit entirely, as a fragile bridge of reeds by a great flood. Such a mendicant sheds this world and the next, as a snake its old worn-out skin.
In future lives they find no substance, as an inspector of fig trees finds no flower. Such a mendicant sheds this world and the next, as a snake its old worn-out skin.
They hide no anger within, gone beyond any kind of existence. Such a mendicant sheds this world and the next, as a snake its old worn-out skin.
Their mental vibrations are cleared away, internally clipped off entirely. Such a mendicant sheds this world and the next, as a snake its old worn-out skin.
They have not run too far nor run back, but have gone beyond all this proliferation. Such a mendicant sheds this world and the next, as a snake its old worn-out skin.
They have not run too far nor run back, for they know that nothing in the world is what it seems. Such a mendicant sheds this world and the next, as a snake its old worn-out skin.
They have not run too far nor run back, knowing nothing is what it seems, free of greed. Such a mendicant sheds this world and the next, as a snake its old worn-out skin.
They have not run too far nor run back, knowing nothing is what it seems, free of lust. Such a mendicant sheds this world and the next, as a snake its old worn-out skin.
They have not run too far nor run back, knowing nothing is what it seems, free of hate. Such a mendicant sheds this world and the next, as a snake its old worn-out skin.
They have not run too far nor run back, knowing nothing is what it seems, free of delusion. Such a mendicant sheds this world and the next, as a snake its old worn-out skin.
They have no underlying tendencies at all, and are rid of unskillful roots, Such a mendicant sheds this world and the next, as a snake its old worn-out skin.
They have nothing born of distress at all, that might cause them to come back to this world. Such a mendicant sheds this world and the next, as a snake its old worn-out skin.
They have nothing born of entanglement at all, that would shackle them to a new life. Such a mendicant sheds this world and the next, as a snake its old worn-out skin.
They’ve given up the five hindrances, untroubled, rid of doubt, free of thorns. Such a mendicant sheds this world and the next, as a snake its old worn-out skin.
Read this translation of Snp 1.1 Uragasutta: The Snake by Bhikkhu Sujato on SuttaCentral.net. Or read a different translation on DhammaTalks.org.
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