Кхеминда писал(а):Тот монах покидает оба берега, Как змея свою отжившую кожу. СНП 1.1
А теперь внимание вопрос на иной берег или все таки покинуть оба берега необходимо?
Thanissaro BhikkhuThe monk who subdues his arisen anger as, with herbs, snake-venom once it has spread, sloughs off the near shore & far — as a snake, its decrepit old skin.
The monk who has cut off passion without leaving a trace, as he would plunging into a lake, a lotus, sloughs off the near shore & far — as a snake, its decrepit old skin.
The monk who has cut off craving without leaving a trace, as if he had dried up a swift-flowing stream, sloughs off the near shore & far — as a snake, its decrepit old skin.
The monk who has demolished conceit without leaving a trace, as a great flood, a very weak bridge made of reeds, sloughs off the near shore & far — as a snake, its decrepit old skin.
The monk seeing in states of becoming no essence, as he would, when surveying a fig tree, no flowers, sloughs off the near shore & far — as a snake, its decrepit old skin.
The monk with no inner anger, who has thus gone beyond becoming & not-, sloughs off the near shore & far — as a snake, its decrepit old skin.
The monk whose discursive thoughts are dispersed, well-dealt with inside without leaving a trace, sloughs off the near shore & far — as a snake, its decrepit old skin.
The monk who hasn't slipped past or turned back, transcending all this objectification, sloughs off the near shore & far — as a snake, its decrepit old skin.
The monk who hasn't slipped past or turned back, knowing with regard to the world that "All this is unreal," sloughs off the near shore & far — as a snake, its decrepit old skin.
The monk who hasn't slipped past or turned back, without greed, as "All this is unreal," sloughs off the near shore & far — as a snake, its decrepit old skin.
The monk who hasn't slipped past or turned back, without aversion, as "All this is unreal," sloughs off the near shore & far — as a snake, its decrepit old skin.
The monk who hasn't slipped past or turned back, without delusion, as "All this is unreal," sloughs off the near shore & far — as a snake, its decrepit old skin.
The monk in whom there are no obsessions — the roots of unskillfulness totally destroyed — sloughs off the near shore & far — as a snake, its decrepit old skin.
The monk in whom there's nothing born of distress that would lead him back to this shore, sloughs off the near shore & far — as a snake, its decrepit old skin.
The monk in whom there's nothing born of desire that would keep him bound to becoming, sloughs off the near shore & far — as a snake, its decrepit old skin.
The monk who's abandoned five hindrances, who, untroubled, unwounded, has crossed over doubt, sloughs off the near shore & far — as a snake, its decrepit old skin
Nyanaponika TheraHe who can curb his wrath as soon as it arises, as a timely antidote will check snake's venom that so quickly spreads, — such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin.
He who entirely cuts off his lust as entering a pond one uproots lotus plants, — such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin.
He who entirely cuts off his craving by drying up its fierce and rapid flow, — such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin.
He who entirely blots out conceit as the wind demolishes a fragile bamboo bridge, — such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin.
He who does not find core or substance in any of the realms of being, like flowers which are vainly sought in fig trees that bear none, — such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin.
He who bears no grudges in his heart, transcending all this "thus" and "otherwise," — such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin.
He who has burned out his evil thoughts, entirely cut them off within his heart, — such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as the serpent sheds its worn-out skin.
He who neither goes too far nor lags behind, entirely transcending the diffuseness of the world, — such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin.
He who neither goes too far nor lags behind and knows about the world: "This is all unreal," — such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin.
He who neither goes too far nor lags behind, greedless he knows: "This is all unreal," — such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin.
He who neither goes too far nor lags behind, lust-free he knows: "This is all unreal," — such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin.
He who neither goes too far nor lags behind, hate-free he knows: "This is all unreal," — such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin.
He who neither goes too far nor lags behind, delusion-free he knows: "This is all unreal," — such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin.
He who has no dormant tendencies whatever, whose unwholesome roots have been expunged, — such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin.
States born of anxiety he harbors none which may condition his return to earth, — such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin.
States born of attachment he harbors none which cause his bondage to existence, — such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin.
He who has the five hindrances discarded, doubt-free and serene, and free of inner barbs, — such a monk gives up the here and the beyond, just as a serpent sheds its worn-out skin.
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