The Dhammapada

Verses 1–2

Context The book opens with its most famous pair of verses. Müller’s first sentence is a free rendering of a compact Pāli line, manopubbaṅgamā dhammā. Many readers today take that line to say that mind goes before our mental states, leads them and makes them. Müller widened it into a statement about all that we are. This is a question of reading, not a slip. On either reading, intention stands at the head of speech and action. The two images are carefully matched. The cart wheel follows the ox’s foot, heavy and dragging. The shadow follows a body, weightless and constant. For verse 1 the commentary tells, by tradition, of a blind elder named Cakkhupāla, and for verse 2 of a young man named Maṭṭhakuṇḍalī.

In plain words (our paraphrase, not the text) Everything we are comes out of what we have thought. Our thoughts are its foundation and its substance. When a person speaks or acts from a corrupted thought, suffering comes after him as surely as the cart’s wheel comes after the hoof of the ox pulling it. When a person speaks or acts from a pure thought, happiness comes after him, like his own shadow that never leaves him.

Key terms mano (MUH-no), “thought”: Mind, the faculty that thinks and intends. The Pāli says mind goes before and leads, and Müller turns this into “what we have thought.” dhamma (DUM-muh), “All that we are”: Here the word is usually read as mental states or experiences, which mind leads and shapes. Müller widens it to everything we are. dukkha (DOOK-kuh), “pain”: Suffering or pain: what follows speech and action that come from a corrupted mind. sukha (SOO-kuh), “happiness”: Happiness, ease, well-being: what follows speech and action that come from a pure mind.

To reflect on Before one conversation today, notice the mood you bring into it. Afterward, notice whether anything of that mood followed you, in what you said or in how it was received.

Verses 3–6

Context Verses 3 and 4 match word for word until the end, where one small change turns the grievance held into the grievance let go. The Pāli verb behind Müller’s “harbour” means to tie or bind, as if the grievance were strapped on and carried around. Verse 5 is among the most often recited lines in the Buddhist world. It says that hatred ends through avera, non-hatred, which Müller renders “love,” and it closes by calling this an ancient or lasting law. By tradition verse 6 was spoken to the monks of Kosambī, whose dispute had split their community. Its key Pāli verb can be read as saying that we perish here, or that we should restrain ourselves here. Müller follows the first reading, which makes mortality the reason to stop quarreling.

In plain words People who keep repeating to themselves that someone insulted them, struck them, got the better of them or robbed them will never be free of hatred. People who stop dwelling on such thoughts will see their hatred come to an end. Hatred has never been ended by more hatred. It is ended by love, and that is a very old rule. Most people forget that all of us here must die. Those who keep it in mind stop quarreling at once.

Key terms vera (VAY-ruh), “hatred”: Enmity or hatred, especially a grudge kept alive by retaliation. avera (uh-VAY-ruh), “love”: Non-hatred. The Pāli frames it as the absence of enmity, and Müller’s “love” names the warmth that takes its place. sanantana dhamma (suh-NUN-tuh-nuh DUM-muh), “an old rule”: An ancient or eternal law: the closing words of verse 5, presenting the principle as something that has always held true.

To reflect on Think of one old grievance you still repeat to yourself. Notice the exact words you use for it, the way verse 3 records them, and notice what happens in you as you say them. You need not do anything else.

Verses 7–8

Context Māra appears here for the first time, and Müller adds his own gloss, “(the tempter).” In Buddhist tradition Māra is a deity of the realm of desire and death who works to keep beings bound. He also stands for death and for the mind’s own defilements. The pair sets two lives side by side. The first looks for pleasures (the Pāli speaks of dwelling on what seems attractive), eats without measure and lacks energy. The second guards the senses and eats in moderation. It also has saddhā, a confident trust in the teaching, which Müller gives as “faithful.” By tradition the commentary tells of two brothers who became monks. One was drawn back to household life, and the other held firm.

In plain words Someone who lives for pleasure, lets the senses run unchecked, eats without limit, and is lazy and feeble will be brought down by Māra, the tempter, as easily as the wind topples a weak tree. Someone who does not live for pleasure, keeps the senses in check, eats in moderation, and is full of trust and energy cannot be brought down by Māra, any more than the wind can topple a mountain of rock.

Key terms Māra (MAH-ruh): In Buddhist tradition the deity of desire and death, and also a figure for death and the defilements. Müller glosses him as “(the tempter).”

Verses 9–10

Context The “yellow dress” is the kāsāva, the dyed robe of a Buddhist monk. Verse 9 holds a pun that English cannot keep. A person not yet free of kasāva, a stain or impurity, is unworthy of the kāsāva, the dyed robe. Müller gives the stain as “sin,” a Christian word for what the Pāli presents as an inner defilement. His “temperance and truth” stand for self-taming and truthfulness. By tradition these verses were spoken when a costly robe was given to Devadatta, the Buddha’s cousin, who later tried to split the Sangha.

In plain words A person who wants to wear the monk’s yellow robe while still stained within, and who cares nothing for self-control and truthfulness, does not deserve it. A person who has washed those stains away, is firmly settled in good conduct, and cares for self-control and truthfulness truly deserves the robe.

Key terms kāsāva (kah-SAH-vuh), “yellow dress”: The dyed robe of a Buddhist monk. It puns on kasāva, stain, which Müller renders “sin.” sīla (SEE-luh), “virtues”: Moral conduct, the restraint of body and speech. Being “well grounded” in it is the first mark of one worthy of the robe.

Verses 11–12

Context Behind Müller’s “truth” and “untruth” stand the Pāli words sāra and asāra: the heartwood of a tree, and what is not heartwood. The picture is of the hard, valuable core a woodsman looks for, as opposed to sapwood and bark. So the pair is about judging what is essential, and not only about true and false statements. The “desires” in these verses render a phrase about the pasture on which one’s intentions feed, wrong in verse 11 and right in verse 12. By tradition the commentary links this pair to the Buddha’s two chief disciples, Sāriputta and Moggallāna, and to their former teacher, who refused to come to the Buddha.

In plain words Those who mistake what is false for what is true, and what is true for what is false, never reach the truth. They feed on empty wishes. Those who recognize the true as true and the false as false do reach the truth, and their wishes are sound.

Key terms sāra (SAH-ruh), “truth”: Heartwood, the solid core of a tree, and so what is essential or real. Its opposite, asāra, is Müller’s “untruth.”

Verses 13–14

Context Thatch was the ordinary roofing of a house in the Buddha’s India, and in the monsoon a badly laid roof let the rain straight in. Müller’s “unreflecting” and “well-reflecting” render words that mean uncultivated and well cultivated. They come from bhāvanā, the cultivation of the mind, which is also the tradition’s everyday word for meditation. “Passion” is rāga, lust or craving. By tradition these verses were spoken about Nanda, the Buddha’s half-brother, who was ordained on the day of his wedding. He could not stop longing for his bride until he trained his mind.

In plain words Rain pours through a badly thatched roof, and passion pours into a mind that has not been trained. Rain cannot get through a well-thatched roof, and passion cannot get into a mind that has been well trained.

Key terms rāga (RAH-guh), “passion”: Lust or craving: the first of the three roots of harmful action named by the tradition. bhāvanā (BAH-vuh-nah), “well-reflecting”: Cultivation of the mind, and the usual word for meditation. Müller’s “unreflecting” and “well-reflecting” mean uncultivated and well cultivated. citta (CHIT-tuh), “mind”: The mind or heart as a whole, which here is either left open to the weather or roofed well.

Verses 15–18

Context Here are two more pairs, built on repetition: “in this world,” “in the next,” “in both.” The Pāli word behind “the next” is pecca, after death. The verses assume the teaching of rebirth according to one’s deeds, as the tradition understands it. The compounds Müller gives as “the evil of his own work” and “the purity of his own work” contain the word kamma, action. In verses 17–18 the “evil path” and “good path” render duggati and sugati, a bad or a happy destination after death. A bad destination means a state of misery, and a happy one means a fortunate human or heavenly birth. By tradition the commentary ties verse 15 to a pig butcher named Cunda and verse 17 to Devadatta.

In plain words The person who does harm grieves here and grieves hereafter. He grieves in both, and he is wretched when he sees how foul his own deeds have been. The person who does good is glad here and glad hereafter, glad in both, and he rejoices when he sees how clean his own deeds have been. The wrongdoer suffers in both worlds. He suffers at the memory of the wrong he has done, and he suffers still more as he goes on along the bad road. The good person is happy in both worlds. He is happy remembering the good he has done, and happier still as he goes on along the good road.

Key terms pecca (PECH-chuh), “the next”: After death: the life that, as the tradition understands it, follows this one according to one’s deeds. kamma (KUM-muh), “work”: Intentional action. Here it appears inside the compounds for defiled and purified action, which the doer later sees for what it was. duggati (DOOG-guh-tee), “evil path”: A bad destination: rebirth, as the tradition understands it, in a state of misery. sugati (SOO-guh-tee), “good path”: A good destination: rebirth, as the tradition understands it, in a happy human or heavenly state.

Verses 19–20

Context A hired cowherd took other people’s cattle out to graze and counted them home in the evening, but the milk and the calves were never his. This pair sets a learned but careless monk beside one who knows little by heart yet lives what he knows. Müller’s “portion (of the law)” renders a word for the recited texts. His “priesthood” renders sāmañña, the life of a renunciant, since Buddhism has no priests in the Christian sense. Memorizing and reciting the teaching is still honored in Theravāda communities, and the verses do not scorn it. By tradition the commentary tells of two friends who became monks. One became a scholar, and the other a meditator who reached the goal.

In plain words A careless man may be able to recite a great deal of the teaching, but if he does not practice it he has no share in the renunciant’s life. He is like a hired cowherd counting cattle that belong to someone else. Another may know only a little of the teaching by heart, yet live by it. He has let go of passion, hatred and delusion, and he has real understanding and a mind at peace. Clinging to nothing in this world or the next, he truly shares in that life.

Key terms sāmañña (sah-MUN-nyuh), “priesthood”: The state and life of a samaṇa, one who has left home for the spiritual life. Müller’s word is Victorian and does not fit Buddhism, which has no priests. rāga (RAH-guh), “passion”: Lust or craving, the first of the three roots of harmful action that the true follower has given up. dosa (DOH-suh), “hatred”: Aversion or ill will, the second of the three roots. moha (MOH-huh), “foolishness”: Delusion, not seeing things as they are: the third of the three roots. huraṃ (HOO-rum), “that to come”: Beyond, the other world. The true follower clings to nothing here or there.

To reflect on Pick one teaching, from any source, that you could recite easily. In the past week, when did you actually act on it, and when did you only know it?

Verses 44–46

Context Chapter IV opens with a question and its answer, and with the book’s own name. Müller’s “path of virtue” renders dhammapada, the path, or the verse, of the Dhamma. By tradition verses 44–45 were spoken to monks who had been discussing the physical earth, and the commentary takes “this earth” to mean oneself. The first verb is read in two ways, as conquer or as understand, and Müller’s “overcome” follows the first reading. The answer names the sekha, the disciple still in training. Verse 46 has its own story, of a monk who took the mirage as his meditation subject. It arms Māra with flower-tipped arrows, like the Indian god of love. In the Pāli, the one who sees the body’s emptiness passes beyond the sight of the king of death.

In plain words (our paraphrase, not the text) Who will master this earth, the realm of Yama, lord of the dead, and the world of the gods? Who will pick out the clearly taught path of the teaching, as a skilled person picks out the right flower? The disciple in training will master them all, and will pick out that path as the skilled one picks the flower. Whoever sees that this body is like foam and as empty as a mirage will snap Māra’s flower-tipped arrows and never meet the king of death.

Key terms Dhammapada (DUM-muh-puh-duh), “path of virtue”: The path, or verse, of the Dhamma. The book’s title appears here as a phrase in the text. Yama (YUH-muh): Lord of the dead, whose world is one of the realms the disciple will master. deva (DAY-vuh), “gods”: Heavenly beings. In Buddhist teaching their world too lies within the round of rebirth that the disciple overcomes. sekha (SAY-kuh), “disciple”: One in training: a disciple who has entered the noble path but not yet reached its end. Māra (MAH-ruh): The deity of desire and death, armed here with arrows tipped with flowers. maccu (MUCH-choo), “death”: Death, pictured as a king whose sight the disciple escapes.

Connections Compare Verse 40: The body like a jar there, and like froth and a mirage here: two ways of seeing its fragility. Compare Verse 7: Māra overthrows the pleasure-seeker there. Here his arrows are flowers.

Verses 47–48

Context Gathering flowers is the image for gathering sense pleasures, one blossom after another, with the mind scattered. Verse 47 adds a second picture, familiar in a land of great rivers: a flood in the night that carries off a sleeping village. By tradition the verse was spoken about Viḍūḍabha, a king of Kosala. He massacred the Sakyans, the Buddha’s own people, and was then swept away with his army by a flood while they camped on a riverbank. In verse 48 the word for “Death” is antaka, the Ender. “Before he is satiated” renders a phrase meaning still unsatisfied in sense pleasures.

In plain words A man busy gathering the flowers of pleasure, his mind scattered, is carried off by death the way a flood sweeps away a sleeping village. Death takes such a man before he has had his fill of pleasures.

Key terms maccu (MUCH-choo), “Death”: Death, often personified. It comes before the pleasure-seeker is ready. kāma (KAH-muh), “pleasures”: Sense pleasures, which never satisfy the man gathering them before death arrives.

Connections Compare Verse 21: Thoughtlessness is the path of death. These verses show it overtaking the distracted man. Compare Verse 6: The world does not know that we must come to an end, and here is the sleeping village.

Verses 49–50

Context Verse 49 pictures the monk’s daily alms round. A Buddhist monk walks through a village with his bowl and receives a little food from each household. Like a bee that takes a little nectar from each flower, he leaves no one poorer. The “sage” is the muni, the silent one, a word used for renunciants and for the Buddha himself. Verse 50 turns the same restraint inward: attend to your own faults, not other people’s. Müller’s “sins of commission or omission” borrows a phrase from Christian moral language for a Pāli pair meaning what they have done and what they have left undone.

In plain words A bee gathers nectar and moves on without harming the flower, its color or its scent, and a sage should go about his village in the same way. A sage should pay no attention to other people’s faults, to what they have done or failed to do. He should attend only to what he himself has done wrong and left undone.

Key terms muni (MOO-nee), “sage”: A sage, a silent one: a word for the renunciant, and for the Buddha himself.

Connections Compare Verse 3: Dwelling on what others did to us feeds hatred there. Here the sage looks at his own misdeeds instead.

To reflect on Choose one place you pass through today: a shop, an office, a friend’s kitchen. Could you take what you need there and leave it no worse for your visit, the way the bee leaves the flower?

Verses 51–53

Context Two matched verses are followed by a third that turns the image. Some bright flowers have no scent, and some have both color and scent. Fine words are the same: lovely when spoken, but bearing fruit only when they are lived. Verse 53 moves to the garland-maker, a familiar trade in a world where flowers were strung for offerings and festivals. From one heap of flowers come many garlands, and from one human life can come much good. “Good things” renders kusala, wholesome or skillful action. By tradition verse 53 was spoken about Visākhā, the Buddha’s great laywoman supporter, who gave the Eastern Park monastery (Pubbārāma) at Sāvatthī.

In plain words Fine words from someone who does not act on them are like a lovely, brightly colored flower that has no scent: they bear no fruit. Fine words from someone who does act on them are like a lovely flower full of both color and scent: they bear fruit. Many garlands can be made from one heap of flowers, and in the same way a mortal, once born, can do a great deal of good.

Key terms kusala (KOO-suh-luh), “good things”: Wholesome, skillful action. The same word is behind the “clever man” of verses 44–45.

Connections Compare Verse 19: The man who recites but does not do: the same point, made with a cowherd instead of a flower.

Verses 54–56

Context By tradition Ānanda, the Buddha’s attendant, asked whether any scent could travel against the wind, and verses 54–55 are the answer. Verse 56 is linked by tradition to a separate story about the elder Mahākassapa. The perfumes named were the luxuries of their age: sandalwood paste, tagara, two kinds of jasmine (mallikā and vassikī), and the water flower Müller calls a “lotus-flower.” Against them all the verses set the scent of sīla, virtue. The phrase behind “good people” means true or worthy persons. Verse 56 ends with the perfume of the virtuous blowing among the gods, the highest scent of all.

In plain words The scent of flowers does not carry against the wind, nor does the scent of sandalwood, tagara or jasmine. But the fragrance of good people carries even against the wind, and a good person’s influence reaches everywhere. Among all perfumes, whether sandalwood, tagara, lotus or jasmine, the perfume of virtue is the finest. The scent of tagara and sandalwood is slight. The scent of the virtuous rises to the gods and is the highest of all.

Key terms candana (CHUN-duh-nuh), “sandal-wood”: Sandalwood, ground into a fragrant paste and prized as a perfume. tagara (TUG-uh-ruh): A fragrant shrub, and the perfume made from it. mallikā (MUL-li-kah): Arabian jasmine, a sweet-scented white flower. vassikī (VUS-si-kee): A kind of jasmine, prized for its scent. sīla (SEE-luh), “virtue”: Moral conduct. Its fragrance, alone among perfumes, travels against the wind.

Connections Compare Verse 10: The one well grounded in all virtues is worthy of the robe. Here his virtue spreads like a scent.

Verses 57–59

Context Verse 57 completes the praise of virtue: Māra cannot find the path of those who are freed through right knowledge. By tradition it recalls the elder Godhika. After his death Māra searched everywhere for his consciousness and found no trace, because Godhika had reached nibbāna. Müller prints the last two verses as a single paragraph, 58, 59. His “lily” renders paduma, the lotus, which rises clean out of mud. “Those who are like rubbish” and “the people that walk in darkness” render words for the puthujjana, ordinary people blinded by ignorance. In the Pāli this is a condition anyone can leave behind, not a class of person.

In plain words Māra never finds the path of those who have these virtues, who live heedfully and are set free by right knowledge. A lily can grow sweet-smelling and lovely on a heap of rubbish thrown out by the highway. In the same way a disciple of the fully awakened Buddha shines out through wisdom among people who are like rubbish, among those who live in darkness.

Key terms Māra (MAH-ruh): The deity of desire and death, who cannot trace the path of the freed. paduma (PUH-doo-muh), “lily”: The lotus, which grows clean out of muddy water. Müller calls it a lily. puthujjana (poo-TOOJ-juh-nuh), “people that walk in darkness”: Ordinary people, not yet on the noble path, whose sight is clouded by ignorance. sāvaka (SAH-vuh-kuh), “disciple”: A disciple of the Buddha. Buddha (BOOD-duh): The Awakened One. Here he is called sammāsambuddha, fully awakened by himself, which Müller renders “truly enlightened Buddha.” paññā (PUN-nyah), “knowledge”: Wisdom, by which the disciple shines out among others.

Connections Compare Verse 37: Those who bridle the mind are free from Māra’s bonds. Here Māra cannot even find their way. Compare Verse 28: The wise one looking down from the mountain is set beside the lotus shining above the rubbish heap.