Puro­hi­ta­putta­jenta

I was intoxicated with the pride of birth,
And wealth and sovereignty,
I lived intoxicated
With the beauty and form of my body.
No-one was my equal or my better—
Or so I thought.
I was such an arrogant fool,
Stuck up, waving my own flag.
I didn’t pay respects to anyone:
Not my mother or father,
Nor others considered to be honorable.
I was stiff with conceit, and disrespectful.
When I saw the supreme leader,
The most excellent of charioteers,
Shining like the sun,
And revered by the monastic Saṅgha,
I discarded conceit and intoxication,
And, with a clear and confident heart,
I bowed down with my head
To the highest of all beings.
The conceit of superiority and the conceit of inferiority
Have been abandoned and uprooted.
The conceit “I am” has been eradicated,
And every kind of conceit has been destroyed.