Thig 9 Vaḍḍha’s Mother
Vaḍḍha’s Mother:
Vaḍḍha, don’t have any
underbrush-lust
ever, in the world, at all.
Don’t, my little son,
have a share in suffering
again & again.
For happy are sages, Vaḍḍha,
unperturbed, with doubt cut through.
Having become cool and self-controlled,
they dwell effluent-free.
Foster the path,
pursued by seers,
for the attainment of vision,
for the ending of stress.
Vaḍḍha:
Undaunted, mother,
you speak this matter to me.
I suspect that now in you
no underbrush
is found.
Vaḍḍha’s Mother:
Whatever fabrications
are lowly, middling, or exalted:
No underbrush for them in me
—not a bit, not the least little bit—
is found.
All effluents are ended for me—
heedful, doing jhāna.
The three knowledges
are attained;
the Buddha’s bidding,
done.
Vaḍḍha:
With what a vast goad
my mother poked me—
because of her sympathy—
verses connected to the ultimate goal.
Having heard her words—
my mother’s instruction—
Dhamma-saṁvega arose
for attaining rest from the yoke.
Resolute in exertion,
relentlessly, both day & night,
I, roused by my mother,
touched
the highest peace.