Get up and sit!
What need of sleep!
For the sick what rest is there,
pierced by the dart of pain?

Get up and sit!
Train hard for peace.
Let not Māra know
that you are negligent,
deluded and under his control.

Cross beyond this craving—
tied to, desiring which
gods and men remain.
Don’t let this chance pass by:
those who do so grieve,
sending themselves to hell!

From “dust” arises negligence,
from negligence to more:
by diligence and knowledge,
pluck out the dart oneself.