Paṭācārā, Who Had a Following of Five Hundred

“He whose path you do not know,
not whence he came nor where he went;
though he came from who knows where,
you mourn that being, crying, ‘Oh my son!’

But one whose path you do know,
whence they came or where they went;
that one you do not lament—
such is the nature of living creatures.

Unasked he came,
he left without leave.
He must have come from somewhere,
and stayed who knows how many days.
He left from here by one road,
he will go from there by another.

Departing with the form of a human,
he will go on transmigrating.
As he came, so he went:
why cry over that?”

“Oh! For you have plucked the dart from me,
so hard to see, hidden in the heart.
You’ve swept away the grief for my son,
in which I once was mired.

Today I’ve plucked the dart,
I’m hungerless, extinguished.
I go for refuge to that sage, the Buddha,
to his teaching, and to the Sangha.”

That is how Paṭācārā, who had a following of five hundred, declared her enlightenment.