Deep Commentary

The six verses above were taught by the Buddha at Bamboo Grove Monastery in connection with the story of a young sow. It is said that one day, while the Blessed One was going for alms in Rajagaha, he saw a young sow rolling about in a heap of filth. Seeing this, the Buddha smiled, and a ray of light shone from his teeth. Venerable Ananda asked why the Buddha had smiled. In response, the Buddha told Ananda the story of the sow’s past lives. He said that in the time of the Buddha Kakusandha, this young sow had been a hen living near a meditation hall. Because she attentively listened to the sound of a monk reciting a meditation subject, she was reborn in a royal palace as Princess Ubbari. One day, while in the latrine, she observed the worms moving in the filth with steady attention, and her mind became concentrated enough to enter the first jhana. After that life as a princess ended, she was reborn into a brahmin family. Later, however, she created many unwholesome deeds, and as a result she was reborn as this young sow. The Buddha said: “Knowing this, I smiled.” The monks walking behind Venerable Ananda heard this and were deeply moved. Seeing that their hearts were stirred, the Buddha explained the folly of craving and then spoke the verses above. Later, the young sow passed through thirteen more births: sometimes she fell into animal existence, sometimes she was reborn as a wealthy and noble human being, and so on. In one life, she became the wife of a minister. At that time, Elder Anula passed by her house, saw her, and said to the monks: “Brothers, how remarkable! The young sow has become the wife of Lakuntaka Atimbara, the king’s minister.” Hearing these words, she suddenly remembered all her past lives and attained the knowledge of former births. She then left household life, became the nun Pancabalaca, and before long attained arahantship. Afterward, she recounted to others the whole story of her many lives in samsara. Having finished, she advised them: “May each of you be mindful and diligent in striving for liberation.” The fourfold assembly was deeply moved by her story and her counsel. Later, she entered final Nibbana. Regarding verse 338, the Buddha compares the cutting off of sensual craving to cutting down a tree. If one wants a tree to stop sprouting, one must dig out all its roots. If any root remains, the tree will continue to grow shoots. The same is true of craving. It must be uprooted completely if one wishes to be free from rebirth. As long as even the smallest subtle desire remains, rebirth in the cycle of birth and death still continues. Therefore, the Buddha teaches that whoever wishes to be free from rebirth and suffering must cut off craving at its very root. Regarding verse 339, the Buddha says that each of us is swept along by thirty-six torrents of craving, pushing us strongly toward unwholesome paths. The number thirty-six symbolizes multiplicity and is used metaphorically. Buddhist scriptures often speak of eighteen elements: the six sense faculties, six sense objects, and six forms of consciousness. Here, however, the number thirty-six refers specifically to craving in relation to the sense faculties and sense objects. The six faculties and six objects make twelve; multiplied by the three times—past, present, and future—they become thirty-six. More broadly, when faculty, object, and consciousness come together, they give rise to discriminating energy that stimulates thirst and desire. Our present life is constantly governed by these torrents of craving. They pull us in many directions. When the eye contacts a visible object, discrimination arises: beautiful or ugly. What is beautiful gives rise to attachment; what is ugly gives rise to aversion. Both bring restlessness and suffering. A pleasing form possesses a powerful attraction that drags us after it. Countless people have perished because of attachment to sensual beauty. “Form” here refers broadly to material objects, including, of course, the attractive appearance of human beings. Many lovers, unable to satisfy the intensity of their longing, have fallen into despair or even destroyed themselves. When craving rises like a raging flood, no ordinary force can stop it; resistance only provokes stronger opposition. This is why many families collapse and many children are scattered, all because the demands of sensual desire are not restrained. The harm caused by attachment to sound is also immeasurable. Sound refers to music and all kinds of pleasing tones. Many people become so absorbed in music that they neglect eating and sleeping and exhaust body and mind. A melancholy melody or a sweet sound may cause someone to fall into longing and sorrow. In ancient stories, even great ascetics dwelling in the mountains lost their meditative absorption simply by hearing an enchanting song. If we examine the five strands of sensual pleasure—wealth, sensual beauty, fame, food, and sleep—or the six sense objects of form, sound, smell, taste, touch, and mental objects, we can see how harmful they can become. Ultimately, the faculties and objects themselves are not at fault. The fault lies in consciousness that discriminates and clings. Because consciousness judges things as good or bad, attachment and aversion arise. This is the beginning of bondage in the painful cycle of birth and death. Regarding verse 340, the Buddha further emphasizes the danger of thirst and desire. Human desire has no limit; it spreads everywhere like wild grass covering the earth. Desire always wants more and never wants less. Even the richest person in the land is not truly content. The poor beggar longs for wealth, but what about kings and rulers? Their ambitions are also boundless. In essence, the craving of the poor and the craving of the powerful are not different; only their outward circumstances differ. One is a poor beggar, the other a wealthy beggar. When people place hope in something, they forget that disappointment is already hidden within hope. Disappointment brings sorrow. The more one seeks, the more one suffers. In the teachings, this is called the suffering of not obtaining what one wants, one of the great sufferings of human life. To lessen suffering, the Buddha teaches lay followers to reduce desire. On a higher level, one must uproot desire completely. Only then can there be true peace and liberation. Regarding verse 341, the Buddha clearly points out the danger of a person heavily burdened by craving. Such a person clings to and pursues pleasures through the six sense objects. Even if they seek peace, they remain circling in the realm of suffering. Reflecting deeply on the Buddha’s words, we can see how full of contradiction our lives are. When we are overwhelmed by adversity and suffering, we no longer care for worldly pleasures; we only wish to escape pain as quickly as possible. But once the crisis passes, we forget the wish for release. The earnest mind that sought liberation seems to disappear, and we return to craving and attachment to sensual pleasure. We like to hear of Nibbana, peace, happiness, and the ending of suffering, yet we also long for worldly enjoyment. This is like a dog caught in the middle of a river. A man once kept a dog. One day, as they walked by a river, the dog smelled delicious roasted meat from the opposite bank. It left its master and jumped into the river to swim across. Halfway across, it heard its master calling and turned back, unwilling to abandon him. But then the scent from the far bank reached it again, and it turned once more toward the smell. Back and forth it turned, until at last it grew exhausted and drowned in the middle of the river. The master’s call symbolizes moral obligation and gratitude; the fragrance symbolizes the pleasures of the five desires and the six sense objects. In the end, morality is not fulfilled and sensual pleasure is not obtained. Our condition is similar. Finally, we drown in the river of birth and death, just as the dog drowned in the physical river. Regarding verse 342, the Buddha uses the image of a hare caught in a snare to represent those who are infatuated with craving. Once a hare is trapped, even if it struggles, escape is not easy; it will likely die in the hunter’s hands. In the same way, the Buddha teaches that monks who seek freedom from desire must strive to abandon craving. Otherwise, they will meet a fate like the trapped hare. When the fire of craving blazes high, it can burn everything. First it burns oneself, then it spreads and harms others. Craving is truly frightening. Looking at society, we see many people caught in the net of desire and attachment—more broadly, in the net of the five desires and six sense objects. Many consider bodily pleasure the greatest happiness in life. This view is mistaken. Some teachers even call it foolish. We should examine whether this is true, or whether sensual pleasure is merely a disguise that deceives us and brings deep suffering. Bodily pleasure is fragile: joy appears, and suffering follows. Many people ruin body and mind because of a brief moment of indulgence and then suffer lifelong regret. They suffer themselves and cause suffering to those close to them. Chasing sensual pleasure is like a person with a severe skin disease who scratches the itch by holding the body near burning coals. The itch may be relieved for a moment, but the disease remains and worsens day by day. If it is not treated at the root, the sufferer cannot escape death. Likewise, if we do not cut off the root of craving, we will continue to sink in the sea of birth, death, and suffering. Regarding verse 343, the Buddha repeats and emphasizes once more that whoever wishes to be free from suffering must quickly remove craving. In particular, the Buddha teaches that monastics, more than anyone else, must cut off craving. Otherwise, they are like a hare caught in a snare—the snare of defilements and bondage. Whether ordained or lay, if a practitioner does not remove defilements, escape from painful karmic results is impossible. The Buddha urges monastics always to remain aware of birth, death, and suffering, and to make urgent effort to eliminate craving. The story above also teaches us about the power and function of meditation. When the young sow had once been a hen, merely listening attentively to a monk reciting a meditation subject led to rebirth in a royal palace as a princess. By observing worms with concentrated attention, the princess attained the first jhana. After death, she was reborn in a brahmin family. Yet sadly, because she later created unwholesome karma, she was still reborn as a young sow. Thus, even attainment of the first jhana is no final guarantee. If one creates evil karma, one can still fall into lower realms. This is the impartial law of cause and effect. Wholesome deeds bring blessings; unwholesome deeds lead to suffering. Whatever seed is planted, that same kind of plant grows; there is never confusion. One cannot plant chili seeds and expect an orange tree. Through many births, she experienced both suffering and joy. Because she still had some wholesome merit, the young sow was later reborn as the wife of a minister. Though she lived in wealth, comfort, power, and high status, when she heard of her own painful past lives from an accomplished elder, she awakened, left worldly life, and went forth. After practicing for only a short time, she attained arahantship.