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Sleep, like a sly old age, creeps from the forehead, unseen and fickle, overtaking all human energy.
This is the original source (yoni); only through righteous actions and reaching this birth can one attain self-realization.
This untamed worldly nature should be yoked by humility; true governance succeeds only when discipline leads.
What she couldn’t achieve through age, she now fakes with clever makeup—applying powder lines to mimic rice-like facial hair.
You reached the height of youth, for whom I once fainted in love—but now that charm is gone, and my tears mark your decline.
This whole vast world bends its head—while the proud horse leaps upward, dancing like it seeks to conquer even the sky.
Knowing only the well’s scope, the frog croaks proudly about his knowledge, unaware of the vast sky and ocean beyond.
Even in this vast world, only a few worn-out names are praised—such is the folly of the world that mistakes straw for treasure.
Despite water’s abundance, you quench no thirst—just as in summer, despite clouds, you rain not, leaving scorched beings unaided.
Despite full provisions, you did no good—thus, angry Death grinds its teeth, ready to end your wasteful existence.
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