Buddhism · Sutta Pitaka · Minor Collection (Khuddaka)

Thig, poem 46

Bhaddā of the Curly Hair · Bhaddākuṇḍalakesātherīgāthā

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My hair plucked out, covered in mud, I used to wander wearing just one robe. I saw fault where there was none, and was blind to the actual fault.

“Lūnakesī paṅkadharī, ekasāṭī pure cariṁ; Avajje vajjamatinī, vajje cāvajjadassinī.

Leaving my day’s meditation on Vulture’s Peak Mountain, I saw the stainless Buddha at the fore of the mendicant Saṅgha.

Divāvihārā nikkhamma, gijjhakūṭamhi pabbate; Addasaṁ virajaṁ buddhaṁ, bhikkhusaṅghapurakkhataṁ.

I bent my knee and bowed, and in his presence raised my cupped palms. “Come Bhaddā,” he said; that was my ordination.

Nihacca jāṇuṁ vanditvā, sammukhā añjaliṁ akaṁ; ‘Ehi bhadde’ti maṁ avaca, sā me āsūpasampadā.

“I’ve wandered among the Aṅgans and Magadhans, the Vajjis, Kāsis, and Kosalans. I have eaten the almsfood of the nations free of debt for fifty years.”

Ciṇṇā aṅgā ca magadhā, vajjī kāsī ca kosalā; Anaṇā paṇṇāsa vassāni, raṭṭhapiṇḍaṁ abhuñjahaṁ.

“O! He has made so much merit! That lay follower is so very wise. He gave a robe to Bhaddā, who is released from all ties.”

Puññaṁ vata pasavi bahuṁ, Sappañño vatāyaṁ upāsako; Yo bhaddāya cīvaraṁ adāsi, Vippamuttāya sabbaganthehī”ti.

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… Bhaddā kuṇḍalakesā therī ….