I have heard that on one occasion a certain monk was dwelling among the Kosalans in a forest thicket. |
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Now at that time, after his meal, returning from his almsround, he went down to a lotus pond and sniffed a red lotus. |
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Then the devata inhabiting the forest thicket, feeling sympathy for the monk, desiring his benefit, desiring to bring him to his senses, approached him and addressed him with this verse: |
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You sniff this water-born flower that hasn't been given to you. This, dear sir, is a factor of stealing. You are a thief of a scent. [The monk:] I don't take, don't damage. I sniff at the lotus from far away. So why do you call me a thief of a scent? One who digs up the stalks, damages flowers, one of such ruthless behavior: why don't you say it of him? [The devata:] A person ruthless & grasping, smeared like a nursing diaper: to him I have nothing to say. It's you to whom I should speak. To a person unblemished, constantly searching for purity, a hair-tip's worth of evil seems as large as a cloud. [The monk:] Yes, yakkha, you understand me and show me sympathy. Warn me again, yakkha, whenever again you see something like this. [The devata:] I don't depend on you for my living nor am I your hired hand. You, monk, you yourself should know how to go to the good destination. |
(Vị Tỷ-kheo): (Vị Thi�n): (Vị Tỷ-kheo): (Vị Thi�n): |
The monk, chastened by the devata, came to his senses. |
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