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A horse unjustly beaten acquires faults that weren’t there before — so too does unjust punishment spoil the noble.
Wise men tolerate ignorant ones indulging in unworthy delights like fathers letting their children play aimlessly.
The powerful, if enraged, punish both the guilty and innocent alike — such is the burden of their fiery temperament.
The forest gleams like smoldering ash — white buds, red blossoms, fluttering bees, and flaming foliage all conjure death’s beauty.
Boneless, headless, armless, footless — yet it embraces fully. Such is desire, attaching even when form is incomplete.
Life, youth, and wealth are fleeting; only dharma and fame endure.
Lineage is unstable, knowledge contentious, wealth fleeting — pride and delusion often accompany it.
Just like Indra’s bow seen in the monsoon sky, a woman’s heart is often fickle, unreachable, and filled with shifting desires.
With a fleeting body, perform actions of lasting value — for life is ever on the edge of ending.
Your fame, O King, shines in paradoxes — like bones, curd, conch, and cranes — at once ordinary, yet sacred and renounced.
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