Therīgāthā — Versos das Monjas Anciãs — 6.2 — Vāseṭṭhī

1Struck down with grief for my son,
deranged, out of my mind,
nude, my hair flying,
I wandered here and there.

2I lived on rubbish heaps,
in cemeteries and highways.
For three years I wandered,
stricken by hunger and thirst.

3Then I saw the Holy One
back at the city of Mithilā.
Tamer of the untamed,
the Awakened One fears nothing from any quarter.

4Regaining my mind,
I paid homage and sat down.
Out of compassion
Gotama taught me the Dhamma.

5After hearing his teaching,
I went forth to homelessness.
Applying myself to the Teacher’s words,
I realized the state of grace.

6All sorrows are cut off,
given up, they end here.
I’ve fully understood the basis
from which grief comes to be.