II.3 — Sumangala's Mother {vv. 23-24} [go up]

So freed! So freed!
So thoroughly freed am I — 
	from my pestle,
	my shameless husband
	& his sun-shade making,
	my moldy old pot
	with its water-snake smell.
Aversion & passion
I cut with a chop.
Having come to the foot of a tree,
I meditate, absorbed in the bliss:
	"What bliss!"