Weingast’s poem available at BCBS website.
Norman
271. “Lady, you fell asleep saying ‘Ascetics’; you wake up saying ‘Ascetics’; you praise only ascetics; assuredly you will be an ascetic.
272. “You bestow much food and drink upon ascetics; Rohini, now I ask you: Why are ascetics dear to you ‘?
273. “Not dutiful, lazy, living on what is given by others; full of expectation, desirous of sweet things, why are ascetics dear to you?”
274. “Truly for a long time you have been questioning me about ascetics, father; I shall praise to you their wisdom, virtuous conduct, and effort.
275. “They are dutiful, not lazy, doers of the best of actions; they abandon desire and hatred; therefore ascetics are dear to me.
276. “They shake off the three roots of evil, doing pure actions; all their evil is eliminated; therefore ascetics are dear to me.
277. “Their body-activity is pure; and their speech-activity is likewise; their mind-activity is pure; therefore ascetics are dear to me.
278. “They are spotless like mother-of-pearl, purified inside and out; full of good mental states; therefore ascetics are dear to me.
279. “Having great learning, expert in the doctrine, noble, living in accordance with the doctrine; they teach the goal and the doctrine; therefore ascetics are dear to me.
280. “Having great learning, expert in the doctrine, noble, living in accordance with the doctrine, with intent minds, they are possessed of mindfulness; therefore ascetics are dear to me.
281. “Travelling far, possessed of mindfulness, speaking in moderation, not conceited, they comprehend the end of pain; therefore ascetics are dear to me.
282. “If they go from any village, they do not look back longingly at anything; they go without longing indeed; therefore ascetics are dear to me.
283. “They do not deposit their property in a storeroom, nor in a pot, nor in a basket, rather seeking that which is cooked; therefore ascetics are dear to me.
284. “They do not take gold, coined or uncoined, or silver; they live by means of whatever turns up; therefore ascetics are dear to me.
285. “Those who have gone forth are of various families and from various countries; nevertheless they are friendly to one another; therefore ascetics are dear to me.”
286. “Truly for our sake, lady, you were born in our family, Rohiṇī; you have faith in the Buddha and the doctrine, and keen reverence for the Order.
287. “You indeed comprehend this unsurpassed field of merit; these ascetics will receive our gift too. For among them an extensive sacrifice will be set up for us.”
288. “If you are afraid of pain, if pain is unpleasant for you, go to the venerable Buddha as a refuge, to the doctrine, and to the Order; undertake the rules of virtuous conduct; that will be to your advantage.”
289“I go to the venerable Buddha as a refuge, to the doctrine, and to the Order; I undertake the rules of virtuous conduct; that will be to my advantage.
290. “Formerly I was a kinsman of Brahmā, now I am truly a brahman. I possess the triple knowledge, and am versed in sacred lore, and have complete mastery of knowledge, and I am washed clean.”
Weingast
You don’t become the cloth
just because you put on robes.
You don’t turn into empty space
just because you carry a bowl.
The sun doesn’t bow down.
Trees don’t throw flowers at your feet.
Birds don’t start answering when you call.
The Path will hold even the biggest mistakes.
The Path will make room for even your deepest regrets.
But you don’t become
the cloth of the robe
overnight.
It can begin very quietly.
Something you barely even notice.
Like the touch of water on your skin,
like a knife in a drawer,
like the next five minutes—
unless they’re your last.
The Path isn’t a line on a map.
It’s a great shining world.
Enter wherever you like.
You might get thrown back once or twice,
but if you push through
the outer layers—
oh, my sisters,
then
you will know
the true welcome
that is the very essence
of the Path.
Norman: 515 words
Weingast: 154 words
Bhikkhu Sujato & Jessica Walton
Sujato & Walton
“You fell asleep saying ‘ascetics’;
you woke up saying ‘ascetics’;
you only praise ascetics, madam—
surely you’ll be an ascetic.
You provide ascetics
with abundant food and drink.
I ask you now, Rohiṇī:
why do you like ascetics?
They don’t like to work, they’re lazy,
they survive on charity;
always on the lookout, greedy for sweets—
so why do you like ascetics?”
“Dad, for a long time now
you’ve questioned me about ascetics.
I shall extol for you
their wisdom, ethics, and vigor.
They like to work, they’re not lazy;
by giving up greed and hate,
they do the best kind of work—
that’s why I like ascetics.
As for the three roots of evil,
by pure deeds they shake them off.
They have given up all wickedness—
that’s why I like ascetics.
Their bodily actions are pure;
their actions of speech likewise;
their actions of mind are pure—
that’s why I like ascetics.
Immaculate as a conch-shell,
they’re pure inside and out,
full of bright qualities—
that’s why I like ascetics.
They’re learned and memorize the teaching,
noble, living properly,
teaching the text and its meaning:
that’s why I like ascetics.
They’re learned and memorize the teaching,
noble, living properly,
unified in mind, and mindful—
that’s why I like ascetics.
Traveling afar, and mindful,
thoughtful in counsel, and stable,
they understand the end of suffering—
that’s why I like ascetics.
When they leave a village,
they don’t look back with longing,
but proceed without concern—
that’s why I like ascetics.
They hoard no goods in storerooms,
nor in pots or baskets.
They seek food prepared by others—
that’s why I like ascetics.
They don’t receive silver,
or gold whether coined or uncoined;
feeding on whatever comes that day,
that’s why I like ascetics.
They have gone forth from different families,
even different countries,
and yet they all love one another—
that’s why I like ascetics.”
“Dear Rohinī, it was truly for our benefit
that you were born in our family!
You have faith and such keen respect
for the Buddha, his teaching, and the Sangha.
For you understand this
supreme field of merit.
These ascetics will henceforth
receive our religious donation, too.
For there we will place our sacrifice,
and it shall be abundant.”
“If you fear suffering,
if you don’t like suffering,
go for refuge to the Buddha, the poised,
to his teaching and to the Sangha.
Undertake the precepts,
that will be good for you.”
“I go for refuge to the Buddha, the poised,
to his teaching and to the Sangha.
I undertake the precepts,
that will be good for me.
In the past I was related to Brahmā,
now I genuinely am a brahmin.
Possessing the three knowledges, I’m a genuine scholar,
I’m a knowledge-master, a bathed initiate.”
Weingast
You don’t become the cloth
just because you put on robes.
You don’t turn into empty space
just because you carry a bowl.
The sun doesn’t bow down.
Trees don’t throw flowers at your feet.
Birds don’t start answering when you call.
The Path will hold even the biggest mistakes.
The Path will make room for even your deepest regrets.
But you don’t become
the cloth of the robe
overnight.
It can begin very quietly.
Something you barely even notice.
Like the touch of water on your skin,
like a knife in a drawer,
like the next five minutes—
unless they’re your last.
The Path isn’t a line on a map.
It’s a great shining world.
Enter wherever you like.
You might get thrown back once or twice,
but if you push through
the outer layers—
oh, my sisters,
then
you will know
the true welcome
that is the very essence
of the Path.
C.R. Davids & Commentary
Published in 1909, the translation by Caroline Rhys Davids was an attempt to render the verses in the Early Modern English that we associate with the King James Version. She also translated the background story for each nun. This is an example of a more creative translation that does not change the doctrine, although it uses very outdated and somewhat Christianized terms.
From the commentary: She, too, having made her resolve under former Buddhas, and heaping up good of age-enduring efficacy in this and that rebirth, was born, ninety-one æons ago, in the time of Vipassi Buddha, in a clansman’s family. One day she saw the Exalted One seeking alms in the city of Bandhumatī, and filling his bowl with sweet cakes, she worshipped low at his feet in joy and gladness. And when, after many rebirths in heaven and on earth in consequence thereof, she had accumulated the conditions requisite for emancipation, she was, in this Buddha-era, reborn at Vesālī, in the house of a very prosperous brahmin, and named Rohiṇī. 345 Come to years of discretion, she went, while the Master was staying at Vesālī, to the Vihāra, and heard the doctrine. She became a ‘Stream-entrant,’ and teaching her parents the doctrine, and they accepting it, she gained their leave to enter the Order. Studying for insight, she not long after attained Arahantship, together with thorough grasp of the Norm in form and meaning.
And reflecting on a discussion she had had with her father while she had yet only entered the Stream, she uttered the substance of it as verses of exultation:
Davids
‘”See the recluses!” dost thou ever say.
“See the recluses!” waking me from sleep.
Praise of recluses ever on thy tongue.
Say, damsel, hast a mind recluse to be? (271)
Thou givest these recluses as they come,
Abundant food and drink. Come, Rohiṇī. 346
I ask, why are recluses dear to thee? (272)
Not fain to work are they, the lazy crew.
They make their living off what others give.
Cadging are they, and greedy of tit-bits–
I ask, why are recluses dear to thee?’ (273)
Full many a day, dear father, hast thou asked
Touching recluses. Now will I proclaim
Their virtues and their wisdom and their work. (274)
Full fain of work are they, no sluggard crew.
The noblest work they do, they drive out lust
And hate. Hence are recluses dear to me. (275)
The three fell roots of evil they eject,
Making all pure within, leaving no smirch,
No stain. Hence are recluses dear to me. (276)
Their work 346 in action’s pure, pure is their work
In speech, and pure no less than these their work
In thought. Hence are recluses dear to me. (277)
Immaculate as seashell or as pearl,
Of lustrous characters compact, without,
Within. 347 Hence are recluses dear to me. (278)
Learn’d and proficient in the Norm; elect,
And living by the Norm that they expound
And teach. Hence are recluses dear to me. (279)
Learn’d and proficient in the Norm; elect,
And living by the Doctrine; self-possessed,
Intent. Hence are recluses dear to me. (280)
Far and remote they wander, self-possessed;
Wise in their words and meek, they know the end
Of Ill. Hence are recluses dear to me. (281)
And when along the village street they go,
At naught they turn to look; incurious
They walk. Hence are recluses dear to me. (282)
They lay not up a treasure for the flesh,
Nor storehouse-jar nor crate. The Perfected
Their Quest. Hence are recluses dear to me. (283)
They clutch no coin; no gold their hand doth take,
Nor silver. For their needs sufficient yields
The day. 348 Hence are recluses dear to me. (284)
From many a clan and many a countryside
They join the Order, mutually bound
In love. Hence are recluses dear to me.’ (285)
‘Now truly for our weal, O Rohiṇī,
Wert thou a daughter born into this house!
Thy trust is in the Buddha and the Norm
And in the Order; keen thy piety. (286)
For well thou know’st this is the Field supreme
Where merit may be wrought. We too henceforth
Will minister ourselves to holy men.
For thereby shall accrue to our account
A record of oblations bounteous.’ (287)
‘If Ill thou fearest, if thou like it not,
Go thou and seek the Buddha and the Norm,
And Order for thy refuge; learn of them
And keep the Precepts. So shalt thou find weal.’ 349 (288)
‘Lo! to the Buddha, I for refuge go
And to the Norm and Order. I will learn
Of them to take upon myself and keep
The Precepts. So shall I indeed find weal. (289)
Once but a son of brahmins born was I.
To-day I stand brahmin in very deed.
The nobler Threefold Wisdom have I won,
Won the true Veda-lore, and graduate
Am I from better Sacrament returned,
Cleansed by the inward spiritual bath.’ 350 (290)
Weingast
You don’t become the cloth
just because you put on robes.
You don’t turn into empty space
just because you carry a bowl.
The sun doesn’t bow down.
Trees don’t throw flowers at your feet.
Birds don’t start answering when you call.
The Path will hold even the biggest mistakes.
The Path will make room for even your deepest regrets.
But you don’t become
the cloth of the robe
overnight.
It can begin very quietly.
Something you barely even notice.
Like the touch of water on your skin,
like a knife in a drawer,
like the next five minutes—
unless they’re your last.
The Path isn’t a line on a map.
It’s a great shining world.
Enter wherever you like.
You might get thrown back once or twice,
but if you push through
the outer layers—
oh, my sisters,
then
you will know
the true welcome
that is the very essence
of the Path.
From the commentary: For the brahmin, established in the Refuges and the Precepts, when later on he became alarmed, renounced the world, and, developing insight, was established in Arahantship. Reflecting on his attainment, he exulted in that last verse.
Thanissaro Bhikkhu
Ajahn Thanissaro usually formats his poems with lots of indents, so please see his web site for the original format.
Thanissaro
Rohiṇī’s father:
You go to sleep saying,
“Contemplatives.”
You wake up,
“Contemplatives.”
You praise only
contemplatives.
No doubt you will be
a contemplative.
Abundant food & drink
you give to contemplatives.
Now, Rohiṇī, I ask you:
Why do you hold
contemplatives dear?
They don’t like to work,
they’re lazy,
living off what’s given by others,
full of hankerings,
wanting delicious things:
Why do you hold
contemplatives dear?
Rohiṇī:
For a long time, father,
you’ve quizzed me
about contemplatives.
I’ll praise to you
their
discernment,
virtue,
endeavor.
They do like to work,
they’re not lazy.
They do the best work:
They abandon
passion & anger.
That’s why I hold
contemplatives dear.
They rid themselves
of the three evil roots,1
doing pure actions.
All their evil’s
abandoned.
That’s why I hold
contemplatives dear.
Clean their bodily action,
so is their verbal action.
Clean their mental action:
That’s why I hold
contemplatives dear.
Spotless, like mother of pearl,
pure within & without,
perfect in clear qualities:
That’s why I hold
contemplatives dear.
Learned, maintaining the Dhamma,
noble, living the Dhamma,
they teach the goal
& the Dhamma:
That’s why I hold
contemplatives dear.
Learned, maintaining the Dhamma,
noble, living the Dhamma,
with unified minds
& mindful:
That’s why I hold
contemplatives dear.
Traveling far, mindful,
giving counsel unruffled,
they discern the end
of suffering:
That’s why I hold
contemplatives dear.
When they leave any village
they don’t turn to look back
at anything.
How free from concern
they go!
That’s why I hold
contemplatives dear.
They don’t store in a granary,
pot,
or basket.
They hunt [only]
for what’s already cooked:
That’s why I hold
contemplatives dear.
They take neither silver,
nor gold,
nor money.
They live off whatever is present:
That’s why I hold
contemplatives dear.
Having gone forth
from different families
& from different countries,
still they hold
one another dear:
That’s why I hold
contemplatives dear.
Rohiṇī’s father:
Rohiṇī, truly for our benefit
were you born in our family.
You have conviction
in the Buddha & Dhamma,
and strong respect
for the Saṅgha.
You truly discern
this field of merit
unexcelled.
These contemplatives will receive
our offering, too,
for here we’ll set up
our abundant sacrifice.
Rohiṇī:
If you’re afraid of pain,
if you dislike pain,
go to the Buddha for refuge,
go to the Dhamma & Saṅgha.
Take on the precepts:
That will lead
to your benefit.
Rohiṇī’s father:
I go to the Buddha for refuge;
I go to the Dhamma & Saṅgha.
I take on the precepts:
That will lead
to my benefit.
* * *
Before, I was a kinsman to Brahmā;
now, truly a brahman.
I’m a three-knowledge man & safe,
consummate in knowledge,
washed clean.
Weingast
You don’t become the cloth
just because you put on robes.
You don’t turn into empty space
just because you carry a bowl.
The sun doesn’t bow down.
Trees don’t throw flowers at your feet.
Birds don’t start answering when you call.
The Path will hold even the biggest mistakes.
The Path will make room for even your deepest regrets.
But you don’t become
the cloth of the robe
overnight.
It can begin very quietly.
Something you barely even notice.
Like the touch of water on your skin,
like a knife in a drawer,
like the next five minutes—
unless they’re your last.
The Path isn’t a line on a map.
It’s a great shining world.
Enter wherever you like.
You might get thrown back once or twice,
but if you push through
the outer layers—
oh, my sisters,
then
you will know
the true welcome
that is the very essence
of the Path.
Ven. K Gnanananda Thero
The translations by Ven. K. Gnanananda are somewhat more explanatory and simplified than others. They are a good example of a faithful but non-literal translation.
Gnanananda
271. [Father:] My dear daughter, you go to sleep praising monks. You wake up praising monks. You always praise the good qualities of monks. Do you also wish to be a nun?
272. You offer abundant food and drink to the monks. Rohiṇī, now I ask you; why do you like those monks so much?
273. These monks are inactive, they’re lazy, and they live only on what is given by others. They expect things from others and always desire good things. Why do you like these monks so much?
274. [Rohiṇī:] My dear father, only now, after a long time, you have questioned me about the monks. I will now tell you about their wisdom, virtue and effort.
275. They are truly active and not lazy. They are the doers of the best actions. They work to abandon desire and hatred. That is why I like the monks.
276. They shake off the three roots of evil. They are doers of pure actions. All their evil has been eliminated. That is why I like the monks.
277. Their bodily actions are pure, as are their verbal actions. Their mental actions are also pure. That is why I like the monks.
278. Like pearls, they are spotless and purified internally and externally. They are full of wholesome qualities. That is why I like the monks.
279. They have heard many teachings of the Buddha. They have also memorized them well. They are noble and live in accordance with the Dhamma. They teach the Dhamma and are able to explain the meanings profoundly. That is why I like the monks.
280. They have heard many teachings of the Buddha. They have also memorized them well. They are noble and live in accordance with the Dhamma. They are mindful and possess one-pointedness of the mind. That is why I like the monks.
281. They travel in search of faraway monasteries. They are mindful, speak moderately and are not conceited. They understand the end of suffering, Nibbāna. That is why I like the monks.
282. If they leave a village, they do not look back longingly at anything. Indeed they go without longing. That is why I like the monks.
283. They do not store their property in storerooms, or in a pot, or in a basket. They only seek food cooked by families. That is why I like the monks.
284. They do not accept gold, silver or money. They live satisfied with whatever necessities are available at the time. That is why I like the monks.
285. Coming from various families and places, they have become monks. Nevertheless, they are friendly to one another. That is why I like the monks.
286. [Father:] My dear daughter, truly you were born to our family for our benefit. You have confidence in the Buddha and the Dhamma, and have keen reverence for the community of monks.
287. You have indeed recognized the unsurpassed field of merit. When these monks accept our gifts, that offering will bring great benefit to us.
288. [Rohiṇī:] Dear father, if you are afraid of suffering, and if suffering is unpleasant for you, you should go for refuge to the Buddha, the one with an unshakable mind; to the Dhamma; and to the community of monks. Observe the precepts which will lead to your well-being.
289. [Father:] Yes, my dear daughter, I will go for refuge to the Buddha, the one with an unshakable mind; to the Dhamma, and to the community of monks. I will observe the precepts which will lead to my well-being.
290. Previously, I was called Brahmabandhu—the relative of Brāhmins—because I was born into the clan of Brāhmins. But now I am truly a Brāhmin. I attained the Triple Knowledge. I achieved Nibbāna. I have mastered the Dhamma. I entered the goodness. I am washed clean.
Weingast
You don’t become the cloth
just because you put on robes.
You don’t turn into empty space
just because you carry a bowl.
The sun doesn’t bow down.
Trees don’t throw flowers at your feet.
Birds don’t start answering when you call.
The Path will hold even the biggest mistakes.
The Path will make room for even your deepest regrets.
But you don’t become
the cloth of the robe
overnight.
It can begin very quietly.
Something you barely even notice.
Like the touch of water on your skin,
like a knife in a drawer,
like the next five minutes—
unless they’re your last.
The Path isn’t a line on a map.
It’s a great shining world.
Enter wherever you like.
You might get thrown back once or twice,
but if you push through
the outer layers—
oh, my sisters,
then
you will know
the true welcome
that is the very essence
of the Path.
Pali
Pali text from the Mahāsaṅgīti Tipiṭaka Buddhavasse 2500: World Tipiṭaka Edition in Roman Script.
Pali
“‘Samaṇā’ti bhoti supi,
‘samaṇā’ti pabujjhasi;
Samaṇāneva kittesi,
samaṇī nūna bhavissasi.
Vipulaṃ annañca pānañca,
samaṇānaṃ paveccasi;
Rohinī dāni pucchāmi,
kena te samaṇā piyā.
Akammakāmā alasā,
paradattūpajīvino;
Āsaṃsukā sādukāmā,
kena te samaṇā piyā”.
“Cirassaṃ vata maṃ tāta,
samaṇānaṃ paripucchasi;
Tesaṃ te kittayissāmi,
paññāsīlaparakkamaṃ.
Kammakāmā analasā,
kammaseṭṭhassa kārakā;
Rāgaṃ dosaṃ pajahanti,
tena me samaṇā piyā.
Tīṇi pāpassa mūlāni,
dhunanti sucikārino;
Sabbaṃ pāpaṃ pahīnesaṃ,
tena me samaṇā piyā.
Kāyakammaṃ suci nesaṃ,
vacīkammañca tādisaṃ;
Manokammaṃ suci nesaṃ,
tena me samaṇā piyā.
Vimalā saṅkhamuttāva,
suddhā santarabāhirā;
Puṇṇā sukkāna dhammānaṃ,
tena me samaṇā piyā.
Bahussutā dhammadharā,
ariyā dhammajīvino;
Atthaṃ dhammañca desenti,
tena me samaṇā piyā.
Bahussutā dhammadharā,
ariyā dhammajīvino;
Ekaggacittā satimanto,
tena me samaṇā piyā.
Dūraṅgamā satimanto,
mantabhāṇī anuddhatā;
Dukkhassantaṃ pajānanti,
tena me samaṇā piyā.
Yasmā gāmā pakkamanti,
na vilokenti kiñcanaṃ;
Anapekkhāva gacchanti,
tena me samaṇā piyā.
Na te saṃ koṭṭhe openti,
na kumbhiṃ na khaḷopiyaṃ;
Pariniṭṭhitamesānā,
tena me samaṇā piyā.
Na te hiraññaṃ gaṇhanti,
na suvaṇṇaṃ na rūpiyaṃ;
Paccuppannena yāpenti,
tena me samaṇā piyā.
Nānākulā pabbajitā,
nānājanapadehi ca;
Aññamaññaṃ piyāyanti,
tena me samaṇā piyā”.
“Atthāya vata no bhoti,
kule jātāsi rohinī;
Saddhā buddhe ca dhamme ca,
saṃghe ca tibbagāravā.
Tuvaṃ hetaṃ pajānāsi,
puññakkhettaṃ anuttaraṃ;
Amhampi ete samaṇā,
paṭigaṇhanti dakkhiṇaṃ.
Patiṭṭhito hettha yañño,
vipulo no bhavissati”;
“Sace bhāyasi dukkhassa,
sace te dukkhamappiyaṃ.
Upehi saraṇaṃ buddhaṃ,
dhammaṃ saṃghañca tādinaṃ;
Samādiyāhi sīlāni,
taṃ te atthāya hehiti”.
“Upemi saraṇaṃ buddhaṃ,
dhammaṃ saṃghañca tādinaṃ;
Samādiyāmi sīlāni,
taṃ me atthāya hehiti.
Brahmabandhu pure āsiṃ,
so idānimhi brāhmaṇo;
Tevijjo sottiyo camhi,
vedagū camhi nhātako”.
Weingast
You don’t become the cloth
just because you put on robes.
You don’t turn into empty space
just because you carry a bowl.
The sun doesn’t bow down.
Trees don’t throw flowers at your feet.
Birds don’t start answering when you call.
The Path will hold even the biggest mistakes.
The Path will make room for even your deepest regrets.
But you don’t become
the cloth of the robe
overnight.
It can begin very quietly.
Something you barely even notice.
Like the touch of water on your skin,
like a knife in a drawer,
like the next five minutes—
unless they’re your last.
The Path isn’t a line on a map.
It’s a great shining world.
Enter wherever you like.
You might get thrown back once or twice,
but if you push through
the outer layers—
oh, my sisters,
then
you will know
the true welcome
that is the very essence
of the Path.
There’s almost nothing in common here, apart from a vague notion that there’s a difference between putting on robes and being a true ascetic. The Therigatha verse is full of specifics of the lifestyle, values, and morality of ascetics, none of which Weingast is interested in.
Rohinī’s poem is a dialogue where she is seen as taking an active role, arguing her case against her skeptical father, who hears her out respectfully and is eventually persuaded by her. Weingast ignores all this. In his imagination, rather than a woman instructing a man, we have a man—Matty Weingast—giving advice to women.
At the end of the poem, Rohinī’s father goes forth and becomes enlightened, but there is no mention of Rohinī’s fate. Again, as with Cāpā, this is problematic as the verse is collected in the “Therigatha” and it is quite possible she ordained later in life. Nevertheless Weingast depicts her as a nun, erasing the complications and ambiguities of the text.
Removing any mention of the things that Rohinī herself cared about, Weingast puts his vague analogies in her mouth, making her, not one who recognized and deeply respected the disciplined renunciate life of the Sangha, but a proponent of meaningless vagaries.
The Buddhist tradition, and the Indian culture in which Buddhism began, has a long and complex history of engagement with the idea of the ascetic. The concerns expressed by Rohinī’s father are commonly heard today in India and in Buddhist countries. Contrary to the orientalist projection that Asians lack critical engagement with their own traditions, these things are constantly being litigated and contested. This poem shows that such discussion has been going on since the idea of the ascetic began. Rather than taking this as an opportunity to engage with this complex tradition and reflect on its modern relevance to Buddhists and others, Weingast chooses to simply ignore whatever is outside of his immediate cultural context, a spirituality that is content-free and where all that matters are one’s feelings. And in that context questions of renouncing the use of money or not storing up goods play no part. No doubt this is highly amenable to the sensitivities of modern Americans.
It’s striking how Rohinī respects ascetics for their diligence in memorizing the Dhamma, and teaching the text and its interpretation accurately. For obvious reasons these values and concerns of Rohinī are erased in Weingast’s poem. She would not recognize herself in Weingast’s words.
Finally, Rohinī’s verse includes a somewhat unusual and striking recognition of the diversity in the Sangha, who have all come together from different families and regions in one love. Surely this is a timeless and remarkable message. It does, however, go against another orientalist projection, the inscrutable uniformity of “Asian” culture. The West likes to imagine that it invented multiculturalism, but the Indian subcontinent has long been linguistically and culturally diverse. This poem shows an example of how Indian people overcame their differences, united by a higher purpose. Weingast doesn’t notice any of this. Social and ethical realities are meaningless in his work, because he cannot see how his own privilege and background as a white American male have shaped his ideas. So he feels entitled to simply ignore the social reality of the brown-skinned Asian women whose voices he steals.