Bhaddā Kuṇḍalakesā

My hair mown off, covered in mud,
I used to wander wearing just one robe.
I saw fault where there was none,
and was blind to the actual fault.

Leaving my day’s meditation
on Vulture’s Peak Mountain,
I saw the stainless Buddha
at the fore of the mendicant Saṅgha.

I bent my knee and bowed,
and in his presence raised my joined palms.
“Come Bhaddā,” he said;
that was my ordination.

“I’ve wandered among the Aṅgans and Magadhans,
the Vajjīs, Kāsīs, and Kosalans.
I have eaten the alms-food of the nations
free of debt for fifty years.”

“O! He has made so much merit!
That lay follower is so very wise.
He gave a robe to Bhaddā,
who is released from all ties.”