“O nevermore, my Vaḍḍha, do thou stray
Into the jungle of this world’s desires.
Child of my heart! come thou not back and forth
To share, reborn, in all the ills of life.
True happiness, O Vaḍḍha mine, is theirs
Who, wise and freed from longing and from doubt,
Cool and serene, have tamed the craving will,
And dwell immune from all the deadly drugs.
The Way that Sages such as these have trod—
Leading to that pure vision how they may
Make a sure end of Ill—do thou, dear lad,
Study and cause to grow to thine own weal.
Now in good hope and faith thou speakest thus,
O little mother! well I trow, for thee.
Dear mother mine, no jungle bars the way.
Ah, no! my Vaḍḍha, whatsoe’er I do,
Or say, or think, in things or great or small,
Not e’en the smallest growth of jungly vice
Yet standeth in the onward way for me.
For all the deadly poison-plants are killed
In me who meditate with strenuous zeal.
The Threefold Wisdom have I gotten now,
And all the Buddha’s word have I fulfilled.
O splendid was the spur my mother used,
And no less merciful the chastisement
She gave to me, even the rune she spoke,
Fraught with its burden of sublimest good.
I heard her words, I marked her counsel wise,
And thrilled with righteous awe as she called up
The vision of salvation to be won.
And night and day I strove unweariedly
Until her admonitions bore their fruit,
And I could touch Nibbana’s utter peace.”