Thig, poem 33 · Pali Canon (Tipiṭaka) – English & Pāli · Verses Across
Buddhism · Sutta Pitaka · Minor Collection (Khuddaka)
Thig, poem 33
Ubbirī · Ubbiritherīgāthā
EnglishEnglish
PāliPali
“You cry ‘Live, my dear mother!’ in the forest. Ubbirī, get a hold of yourself! Eighty-four thousand people, all named ‘Live’, have been burnt in this funeral ground: which one do you grieve for?”
“Oh! For you have plucked the arrow from me, so hard to see, stuck in the heart. You’ve swept away the grief for my daughter in which I once was mired.
“Abbahī vata me sallaṁ, duddasaṁ hadayassitaṁ; Yaṁ me sokaparetāya, dhītusokaṁ byapānudi.
Today I’ve plucked the arrow, I’m hungerless, quenched. I go for refuge to that sage, the Buddha, to his teaching, and to the Saṅgha.”
