“Mendicants, an unlearned ordinary person speaks of the ocean. But that’s not the ocean in the training of the Noble One. That’s just a large body of water, a large sea of water.
There are sights known by the eye, which are likable, desirable, agreeable, pleasant, sensual, and arousing. This is called the ocean in the training of the Noble One. And it’s here that this world—with its gods, Māras, and divinities, this population with its ascetics and brahmins, gods and humans—is for the most part sunk. It’s become tangled like string, knotted like a ball of thread, and matted like rushes and reeds, and it doesn’t escape the places of loss, the bad places, the underworld, transmigration.
There are sounds … smells … tastes … touches … ideas known by the mind, which are likable, desirable, agreeable, pleasant, sensual, and arousing. This is called the ocean in the training of the Noble One. And it’s here that this world—with its gods, Māras, and divinities, this population with its ascetics and brahmins, gods and humans—is for the most part sunk. It’s become tangled like string, knotted like a ball of thread, and matted like rushes and reeds, and it doesn’t escape the places of loss, the bad places, the underworld, transmigration.
Those in whom greed, hate, and ignorance have faded away; have crossed the ocean so hard to cross, with its saltwater crocodiles and monsters, its waves and dangers.
They’ve slipped their chains, given up death, and have no attachments. They’ve given up suffering, so there are no more future lives. They’ve disappeared, and cannot be measured; and they’ve confounded the King of Death, I say.”