Wat Chulamanee
Dhammapada — The Path of the Dhamma

Jarā Vagga — The Chapter on Old Age

The Dhammapada · Chapter 11 · 11 verses with translation and commentary

Verse 146

โก นุ หาโส กิมานนฺโท นิจฺจํ ปชฺชลิเต สติ อนฺธกาเรน โอนทฺธา ปทีปํ น คเวสถ ฯ

When the world is forever ablaze, why do you keep laughing and rejoicing? Enveloped in darkness as you are, why do you not seek the light?

This verse was spoken to some five hundred women, companions of Visākhā, to make them see the truth of life in the midst of their merriment and delight.

The Buddha warned them that when the world is forever ablaze, how can one keep laughing and rejoicing? "The world ablaze" means that beings are ceaselessly scorched by the eleven fires, namely rāga (lust), dosa (hatred), moha (delusion), birth, old age, death, grief, lamentation, pain, sorrow, and despair. Moreover, all beings are enveloped by the darkness that is avijjā (ignorance); they should therefore seek the lamp that is the light of ñāṇa (insight-knowledge), the wisdom that guides one out of suffering.

The lesson is this: do not let amusement so blind you that you forget the perils surrounding you. One should live with heedfulness, diligently accumulating wisdom as a light to guide the heart.

Verse 147

ปสฺส จิตฺตกตํ พิมฺพํ อรุกายํ สมุสฺสิตํ อาตุรํ พหุสงฺกปฺปํ ยสฺส นตฺถิ ธุวณฺฐิติ ฯ

Behold this body, beautifully adorned, yet a mass of wounds, a frame of bones, afflicted, the object of many longings, in which there is nothing lasting or firm.

This verse was spoken to the fourfold assembly that had gathered to gaze upon the corpse of Sirimā, a beautiful woman who in life had been desired by many.

The Buddha pointed to this body, beautifully adorned, and showed that it is in truth only a body of wounds, for it has nine openings that constantly ooze impure discharge; it is propped up by a frame of three hundred bones; it is a thing afflicted, easily fallen ill, and utterly without lasting stability — and yet the multitude become infatuated with it and long for it so.

The lesson is this: outward beauty is fleeting and conceals the truth. If one contemplates the body as it really is, the heart naturally loosens its infatuation and lays down its clinging.

Verse 148

ปริชิณฺณมิทํ รูปํ โรคนิทฺธํ ปภงฺคุณํ ภิชฺชติ ปูติ สนฺเทโห มรณนฺตํ หิ ชีวิตํ ฯ

This body is worn out with age, a nest of disease, ever crumbling away. This putrid body will break apart, for life indeed ends in death.

This verse was spoken to the elder nun Uttarā Therī, who had reached the age of a hundred and twenty — a word of comfort and Dhamma for one who had entered extreme old age.

The Buddha said that this body is worn out with age, that it is a nest of disease, growing more decrepit by the day, and that in the end this putrid body will break apart, for it is the nature of life to end in death, which none can escape.

The lesson is this: knowing that this body is impermanent and certain to break apart, one should not be heedless and intoxicated with youth and strength, but should hasten to do good and cultivate the Dhamma while breath still remains.

Verse 149

ยานิมานิ อปตฺถานิ อลาปูเนว สารเท กาโปตกานิ อฏฺฐีนิ ตานิ ทิสฺวาน กา รติ ฯ

These bones, dove-grey in colour, are cast away and scattered about, like gourds strewn in the autumn season. What delight can arise from seeing them?

This verse was spoken to monks who were contemplating corpses in a charnel ground, so that they might see the truth of conditioned things.

The Buddha pointed to the bones, dove-grey in colour, cast away and scattered about like gourds fallen and strewn in the autumn season, the season of falling leaves, and then asked: seeing such a state, how can there be delight and enjoyment in a body that must become like this?

The lesson is this: the body we cherish and love today ends up no different from a heap of bones in a charnel ground. Recalling this truth helps to draw out lust and the intoxication with the physical form.

Verse 150

อฏฺฐีนํ นครํ กตํ มํสโลหิตเลปนํ ยตฺถ ชรา จ มจฺจุ จ มาโน มกฺโข จ โอหิโต ฯ

This body is built as a city of bones, plastered over with flesh and blood, wherein dwell old age and death, conceit and denigration.

This verse was spoken to the elder nun Rūpanandā Therī, who had once prided herself on her beauty, in order to loosen her infatuation with her own form.

The Buddha likened the body to a city built of bones, then plastered over with flesh and blood to make it look pleasing; but within this city dwell nothing but old age, death, conceit, and denigration of others' virtues. The beauty one sees is therefore only a husk covering what is unlovely, and covering the defilements within.

The lesson is this: when one sees through the outward beauty to the true essence, the heart ceases to be proud and vain about the physical form, and turns instead to build the true beauty that is inner virtue.

Verse 151

ชีรนฺติ เว ราชรถา สุจิตฺตา อโถ สรีรมฺปิ ชรํ อุเปติ สตญฺจ ธมฺโม น ชรํ อุเปติ สนฺโต หเว สพฺภิ ปเวทยนฺติ ฯ

Even splendid royal chariots wear out, and this body too comes to old age; but the Dhamma of the good does not grow old — thus the good make it known to the good.

This verse was spoken to King Pasenadi of Kosala, who was grieving and sorrowful, on the occasion of Queen Mallikā.

The Buddha likened it thus: even a splendid, beautiful royal chariot can fall into ruin and decay, and so too the body of a person; it naturally comes to old age. But there is one thing that neither ages nor grows worn — the Dhamma of the good, namely the nine supramundane states (lokuttara-dhamma): the four paths, the four fruits, and Nibbāna, one — which the good make known to one another among the good.

The lesson is this: things and bodies all decay in time. The wise therefore do not entrust their happiness to what can grow old, but strive to accumulate the Dhamma, which is deathless and never decays.

Verse 152

อปฺปสฺสุตายํ ปุริโส พลิวทฺโทว ชีรติ มํสานิ ตสฺส วฑฺฒนฺติ ปญฺญา ตสฺส น วฑฺฒติ ฯ

This person of little learning grows old in vain, like an ox. His flesh increases, but his wisdom does not grow.

This verse was spoken to the monks concerning the elder Lāḷudāyī Thera, who had little learning and made no progress in the Dhamma.

The Buddha said that a person of little learning, who does not attend to hearing and contemplating the Dhamma, grows old in vain, like an ox that grows only in body for labour; for he increases only in flesh — his body grows larger with age — but his wisdom does not grow.

The lesson is this: the old age that has worth is growing old together with wisdom and goodness, not merely growing old in years and body. One should therefore diligently study and train oneself, growing inwardly along with the passing days.

Verse 153

อเนกชาติสํสารํ สนฺธาวิสฺสํ อนิพฺพิสํ คหการกํ คเวสนฺโต ทุกฺขา ชาติ ปุนปฺปุนํ

Seeking the builder of this house, and not finding him, I wandered through countless births in saṃsāra, for birth again and again is suffering.

This verse is the exclamation the Buddha uttered at the moment of his awakening, expressing the discovery of the cause of the round of birth and death.

The Buddha said that throughout the time he had been seeking the builder of the house yet had not found him, he had to wander through the round of saṃsāra for countless births. Here the builder means taṇhā (craving), the one who constructs the house, which is the individual self — this body — over and over again; while not finding him means not yet having attained the wisdom of awakening (bodhi-ñāṇa), because being born again and again is suffering.

The lesson is this: as long as craving remains, one must be born and endure suffering over and over. Seeing through and abandoning craving is therefore the way out of this cycle of suffering.

Verse 154

คหการก ทิฏฺโฐสิ ปุน เคหํ น กาหสิ

O builder of the house, you are seen! You shall build no house again. All your rafters are broken, your ridgepole is destroyed. My mind has reached the unconditioned; I have attained the end of craving.

This verse is the continuing exclamation at the moment of awakening, when he had discovered and subdued the cause of suffering.

The Buddha proclaimed his victory: O builder of the house, now you are seen! You shall build the house, the individual self, no more, for all your rafters — meaning every defilement — I have broken, and the ridgepole, which is avijjā (ignorance), I have destroyed. His mind had reached Nibbāna, the unconditioned free of all fabrication, and had attained the end of craving utterly.

The lesson is this: when one clearly sees craving itself with wisdom, one can destroy the very root of suffering. This is the highest goal toward which the practice of Dhamma should aim.

Verse 155

อจริตฺวา พฺรหฺมจริยํ อลทฺธา โยพฺพเน ธนํ ชิณฺณโกญฺจาว ฌายนฺติ ขีณมจฺเฉว ปลฺลเล

Fools who have not lived a good life, nor gained wealth in their youth, languish like old herons by a lake without fish.

This verse was spoken concerning the son of a wealthy merchant who possessed great riches but let his life pass by fruitlessly, until he fell into hardship in his later years.

The Buddha said that the fool who has not lived a good life in his youth and who has not striven to gain and keep wealth, when he grows old will languish in hopelessness, like an old heron languishing in a fishless marsh, having neither virtue nor wealth to rely on.

The lesson is this: youth is the golden time in which one should build both goodness and a secure standing; otherwise, when old age arrives, one will be left without refuge. One should therefore not be heedless while strength still remains.

Verse 156

อจริตฺวา พฺรหฺมจริยํ อลทฺธา โยพฺพเน ธนํ เสนฺติ จาปาติขีณาว ปุราณานิ อนุตฺถุนํ ฯ

Fools who have not lived a good life, nor gained wealth in their youth, lie brooding over the past, like arrows shot from a bow.

This verse was spoken concerning the son of a wealthy merchant who possessed great riches, just as in the previous verse, portraying the pitiable end of the heedless.

The Buddha said that the fool who has not lived a good life in his youth and who has not gained wealth to keep, when he grows aged can only lie brooding over the past, lamenting the old days that have slipped away, like an arrow shot from a bow that has fallen spent, without the strength to fly onward again.

The lesson is this: letting the time of one's able years pass by in vain brings only regret afterward, which cannot be undone. One should therefore set about building goodness and security today, before the opportunity vanishes along with one's youth.