It seems they are, but they are mindless
Scattered around the world
eet crawling aimlessly
Eyes that do not see, skin that does not feel
Closed to reality,
sad shades of anger
The disappointment, the anxiety
Nothing fills them, they look at nothing
Hungry for emotions
Closed to virtue
Fugitives of light
Moored to a thousand temptations
They work hard, they cling, they hold
Rotten blocks of concepts
That only they understand
They are fools and worse, fools
Yonquis in a borrowed life
What is advertised in black and red
Of terror and dispossession
Where what begins does not end
Dead burying dead people
Dead giving birth dead
Families, friends, dead relatives
Do not look for compassion
Neither you deserve it nor I grant it to you
It only serves to distill poison
Every time I see you
Every time I see, I see you
That nothing can be done
In the kingdom of Morpheus
More than a thousand years ago, when the Sakyano lived
There were dead, but more human
You tied them to the stick
And now, unfortunately, you are the majority
Hellish beings that you only claim
More pain, more suffering
Wherever you are
The stench of sulfur is felt
You look in the mirror and you do not see
You talk and do not understand
Because you do not see
You do not even know it
Not exhausting tomorrow
Eternal hunger, sick hunger
That always flows and mana
Blooming the Samsara
And you who have given him the world
To the hungriest
And you do not learn yet at such a high price
That nothing covers the infinitely deep
It is useless to try to reflect
Because you neither want, nor know, nor can you
That you are not human,
The book of the three
52. Two brahmins
When one’s house is on fire
the removed container
is the one that will be useful,
Not the one that is burned inside.
Then, since the world is on fire
with old age and death,
one should take giving:
what is given is well eliminated.
When one leaves this life,
self-control over the body, speech and mind,
and the works of merit that one did while he was alive,
lead to one’s happiness.
3.8. Deadly die
Here is the life of mortals,
miserable and brief,
its unknown end,
to dukkha united.
There are no means for those
that are born never die.
Reached decay, then death:
the law for all beings.
As with what is ripe
there is always fear of falling,
so for mortals born
There is always fear of death.
As well as the vessels
of clay made of clay end
for breaking, so the
Death is the end of life.
The young, those great in age,
the fools, as well as the wise ones,
they all go under the domain
of death, because death is its goal.
Those defeated by death,
to another world tied: the
father can not protect his son,
no relatives to his family.
While the relatives are watching,
they cry and they lament;
See the mortals one by one,
guided like an ox to the slaughterhouse.
How the world is afflicted
by death and decay,
the wise do not grieve,
knowing well the nature of the world.
Your way is not known
so they come, they go,
they do not finish seeing,
Your lament is useless.
While they lament,
The damage confused in themselves;
If you could find some benefit,
Would not the wise man do it?
Not by crying and lamenting,
can achieve peace of mind.
It just creates more suffering
and anguish to the body.
You become thin and discolored,
And the deceased are not protected by this, the
Lamentation does not make sense!
When the pain is not abandoned,
a person falls into even greater suffering;
Crying the dead,
They are dominated by pain.
Look what they
it passes to others, the people who pass according to their works;
The creatures tremble,
while they fall under the domain of Death.
Whatever you think it is, it
It becomes something more.
Such is the separation,
Look at the way of the world.
Even if a person were to live
one hundred years or more,
they would still be separated from their family,
abandoning this life.
Therefore, having heard the arahant,
And the lamentation dissipated;
When you see the dead and
you leave, you do not think you can recover them.
Just as one would extinguish
A burning building with water;
In the same way, a firm, wise, clever and intelligent man,
would quickly make the
pain when it arises,
like the wind, a cotton mat.
Someone who seeks happiness
must extract the painful tears
and the longings,
the pain that is inside.
Dart retired and detached,
the mind achieves peace,
it goes beyond all grief,
without pain, extinguished fires.
Collection of thematically grouped discourses
9.13. Loose in the sensory faculties
The disciples of the Gotama.
Without desires they sought their alms,
Without desires they used their dwellings.
Having known the transience of the world,
But now as the village chief,
They made their own sustenance difficult.
They eat and eat and then they go to bed,
Enchanted by the homes of others.
Having bowed reverently to the Sangha,
I am speaking here only of some:
Of those who are expelled, without protector,
And they become like death.
My predica is made with reference
To those who dwell in negligence.
But to those who dwell diligently,
I humbly pay tribute.