Victory

Walking and standing,
sitting and lying down,
extending and contracting the limbs:
these are the movements of the body.

Linked together by bones and sinews,
plastered over with flesh and hide,
and covered by the skin,
the body is not seen as it is.

It’s full of guts and belly,
liver and bladder,
heart and lungs,
kidney and spleen,

spit and snot,
sweat and fat,
blood and synovial fluid,
bile and grease.

Then in nine streams
the filth is always flowing.
There is muck from the eyes,
wax from the ears,

and snot from the nostrils.
The mouth sometimes vomits
bile and sometimes phlegm.
And from the body, sweat and waste.

Then there is the hollow head
all filled with brains.
Governed by ignorance,
the fool thinks it’s lovely.

And when it lies dead,
bloated and livid,
discarded in a charnel ground,
the relatives forget it.

It’s devoured by dogs,
by jackals, wolves, and worms.
It’s devoured by crows and vultures,
and any other creatures there.

A wise mendicant here,
having heard the Buddha’s words,
fully understands it,
for they see it as it is.

“As this is, so is that,
as that is, so is this.”
They’d reject desire for the body
inside and out.

That wise mendicant here
rid of desire and lust,
has found the deathless peace,
extinguishment, the imperishable state.

This two-legged body is dirty and stinking,
full of different carcasses,
and oozing all over the place—
but still it is cherished!

And if, on account of such a body,
someone prides themselves
or looks down on others—
what is that but a failure to see?