Knowledge His Food
No suffering for him
who is free from sorrow
free from the fetters of life
free in everything he does.
He has reached the end of his road.
He has no fixed habitation;
like a swan flown from its lake,
he is serious, he has left his home.
Like a bird invisibly flying in the sky,
he lives without possessions,
knowledge his food, freedom his world,
while others wonder.
Like a bird flying invisibly in the sky
while other wonder, he lives, the saint
without passions, indifferent to food,
aware of the meaning of freedom.
Even the gods envy him,
this charioteer saint who tames the horses of his senses,
yet he is not proud.
He is like the earth, hospitable,
like a floor mat, submissive,
self-cleansing, like an unmuddy lake,
he is free from the wheel of birth and death.
He has found freedom-
peaceful his thinking, peaceful his speech,
peaceful his deed, tranquil his mind.
No one is higher than him,
who will not be deceived, who knows the essence,
who has abandoned desire, renounced the world,
and lives untouched by the flow of time.
Village or forest, water or land,
holy is the place where saints dwell.
Holy is the forest.
Holy is the place where the senses are at peace,
where the saint finds refuge and simple delight.
source: The Dhammapada, The Saint
image: Eddie’s Garden, Eddie’s Photos, Powder Puff Bush December 2015