The grain: harvested.
The rice: gone to be threshed.
But I don't get any alms.
How will I get by?
Confident, recollect
the immeasurable Buddha.
Your body pervaded with rapture,
you'll be at the height
of continual joy.
Confident, recollect
the immeasurable Dhamma.
Your body pervaded with rapture,
you'll be at the height
of continual joy.
Confident, recollect
the immeasurable Sangha.
Your body pervaded with rapture,
you'll be at the height
of continual joy.
You live in the open air.
Cold are these wintry nights.
Don't suffer, overcome with the cold.
Go into your hut, with its fastened bolt.
I'll fasten the four
immeasurables.
With them, I'll dwell
in comfort.
I won't suffer from the cold,
dwelling
unperturbed.