06.1 Pañcasatā Paṭācāra Therī (127-132)

Weingast’s title is “The Five Hundred.”


127. “Whose way you do not know, either coming or going, why do you lament that being [who has] come, crying ‘My son’?

128. “But you do not grieve for him whose way you do know, either coming or going; for such is the nature of living creatures.

129. “Unasked he came from there, unpermitted he went from here, surely having come from somewhere or other, having lived a few days.

130. “He went from here by one road, he will go from there by another. Passed away with the form of a man he will go journeying on. As he came, so he went. What lamentation is there in that?”

131. Truly she has plucked out my dart, hard to see, nestling in my heart, who [has] dispelled my grief for my son, when I was overcome by grief.

132. Today I have my dart plucked out; I am without hunger, quenched. I go to the Buddha-sage, the doctrine, and the Order, as a refuge.



Your daughter.

By some road she came into this world,

not because you asked her.

By some road she left this world,

not because you told her.

In between her coming and going,

she passed some time here with all of us.

Oh, the places she’s been.

Next time she might be a lion

or a god

or a slave

or someone’s mother—


Then it could be your turn to die young,

and her turn to chase after you.

If you really want to cry for somebody,

why not cry for yourself?

Why not cry for all of us—

who are just passing through?


on your


and weep.

Get it all out.

Now get up.

You’ve got work to do.


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