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# Therigatha

## Chapter XIV -- The Thirties

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XIV -- Subha and the Libertine {vv. 366-399}
[Thanissaro Bhikkhu, trans.]

As Subha the nun was going through Jivaka's delightful mango grove, a libertine (a goldsmith's son) blocked her path, so she said to him:

> 'What wrong have I done you
> that you stand in my way?
> It's not proper, my friend,
> that a man should touch
> a woman gone forth.
> I respect the Master's message,
> the training pointed out by the one well-gone.
> I am pure, without blemish:
> Why do you stand in my way?
> You -- your mind agitated, impassioned;
> I -- unagitated, unimpassioned,
> with a mind entirely freed:
> Why do you stand in my way?'

> 'You are young & not bad-looking,
> what need do you have for going forth?
> Throw off your ochre robe --
> Come, let's delight in the flowering grove.
> A sweetness they exude everywhere,
> the towering trees with their pollen.
> The beginning of spring is a pleasant season --
> Come, let's delight in the flowering grove.
> The trees with their blossoming tips
> moan, as it were, in the breeze:
> What delight will you have
> if you plunge into the grove alone?
> Frequented by herds of wild beasts,
> disturbed by elephants rutting & aroused:
> you want to go
> unaccompanied
> into the great, lonely, frightening grove?
> Like a doll made of gold, you will go about,
> like a goddess in the gardens of heaven.
> With delicate, smooth Kasi fabrics,
> you will shine, O beauty without compare.
> I would gladly do your every bidding
> if we were to dwell in the glade.
> For there is no creature dearer to me
> than you, O nymph with the languid regard.
> If you do as I ask, happy, come live in my house.
> Dwelling in the calm of a palace,
> have women wait on you,
> wear delicate Kasi fabrics,
> adorn yourself with garlands & creams.
> I will make you many & varied ornaments
> of gold, jewels, & pearls.
> Climb onto a costly bed,
> scented with sandalwood carvings,
> with a well-washed coverlet, beautiful,
> spread with a woolen quilt, brand new.
> Like a blue lotus rising from the water
> where no human beings dwell,
> you will go to old age with your limbs unseen,
> if you stay as you are in the holy life.'

> 'What do you assume of any essence,
> here in this cemetery grower, filled with corpses,
> this body destined to break up?
> What do you see when you look at me,
> you who are out of your mind?'

> 'Your eyes are like those of a fawn,
> like those of a sprite in the mountains.
> Seeing your eyes, my sensual delight
> grows all the more.
> Like tips they are, of blue lotuses,
> in your golden face
> -- spotless:
> Seeing your eyes, my sensual delight
> grows all the more.
> Even if you should go far away,
> I will think only of your pure,
> long-lashed gaze,
> for there is nothing dearer to me
> than your eyes, O nymph with the languid regard.'

> 'You want to stray from the road,
> you want the moon as a plaything,
> you want to jump over Mount Sineru,
> you who have designs on one born of the Buddha.
> For there is nothing anywhere at all
> in the cosmos with its gods,
> that would be an object of passion for me.
> I don't even know what that passion would be,
> for it's been killed, root & all, by the path.
> Like embers from a pit -- scattered,
> like a bowl of poison -- evaporated,
> I don't even see what that passion would be,
> for it's been killed, root & all, by the path.
> Try to seduce one who hasn't reflected on this,
> or who has not followed the Master's teaching.
> But try it with this one who knows
> and you suffer.
> For in the midst of praise & blame,
> pleasure & pain,
> my mindfulness stands firm.
> Knowing the unattractiveness
> of things compounded,
> my mind cleaves to nothing at all.
> I am a follower of the one well-gone,
> riding the vehicle of the eightfold way:
> My arrow removed, effluent-free,
> I delight, having gone to an empty dwelling.
> For I have seen well-painted puppets,
> hitched up with sticks & strings,
> made to dance in various ways.
> When the sticks & strings are removed,
> thrown away, scattered, shredded,
> smashed into pieces, not to be found,
> in what will the mind there make its home?
> This body of mine, which is just like that,
> when devoid of dhammas doesn't function.
> When, devoid of dhammas, it doesn't function,
> in what will the mind there make its home?
> Like a mural you've seen, painted on a wall,
> smeared with yellow orpiment,
> there your vision has been distorted,
> meaningless your human perception.
> Like an evaporated mirage,
> like a tree of gold in a dream,
> like a magic show in the midst of a crowd --
> you run blind after what is unreal.
> Resembling a ball of sealing wax,
> set in a hollow,
> with a bubble in the middle
> and bathed with tears,
> eye secretions are born there too:
> The parts of the eye
> are rolled all together
> in various ways.'

> Plucking out her lovely eye,
> with mind unattached
> she felt no regret.

> 'Here, take this eye. It's yours.'

> Straightaway she gave it to him.
> Straightaway his passion faded right there,
> and he begged her forgiveness.

> 'Be well, follower of the holy life.
> This sort of thing
> won't happen again.
> Harming a person like you
> is like embracing a blazing fire,
> It is as if I have seized a poisonous snake.
> So may you be well. Forgive me.'

> And released from there, the nun
> went to the excellent Buddha's presence.
> When she saw the mark of his excellent merit,
> her eye became
> as it was before.

Revised: Fri 12 April 2002