Having applied himself
to what was not his own task,
and not having applied himself
to what was,
having disregarded the goal
to grasp at what he held dear,
he now envies those
who kept after themselves,
	   took themselves
	       to task.

Don't ever — regardless —
be conjoined with what's dear
	or undear.
It's painful
not to see what's dear
or to see what's not.

So don't make anything dear,
for it's dreadful to be far
from what's dear.
No bonds are found
for those for whom
there's neither dear
nor undear.

From what's dear is born grief,
from what's dear is born fear.
For one freed from what's dear
there's no grief
	— so how fear?
	
From what's loved is born grief,
from what's loved is born fear.
For one freed from what's loved
there's no grief
	— so how fear?

From delight is born grief,
from delight is born fear.
For one freed from delight
there's no grief
	— so how fear?

From sensuality is born grief,
from sensuality is born fear.
For one freed from sensuality
there's no grief
	— so how fear?

From craving is born grief,
from craving is born fear.
For one freed from craving
there's no grief
	— so how fear?

One consummate in virtue & vision,
judicious,
speaking the truth,
doing his own task:
	the world holds him dear.

	If
you've given birth to a wish
	for what can't be expressed,
are suffused with heart,
your mind not enmeshed
in sensual passions:
	you're said to be
	in the up-flowing stream.

A man long absent
comes home safe from afar.
His kin, his friends, his companions,
delight in his return.

In just the same way,
when you've done good
& gone from this world
	to the world beyond,
your good deeds receive you —
as kin, someone dear
	come home.