Thag 3.5 Mātaṅgaputta

     It’s too cold,
     too hot,
     too late in the evening—
people who say this,
shirking their work:
          The moment passes them by.

Whoever regards cold & heat
as no more than grass,
doing his manly duties,
     won’t fall away
     from ease.

With my chest
I push through wild grasses—
cultivating a heart
               bent on seclusion.

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