All the directions are obscure,
The teachings are not clear to me;
With our benevolent friend gone,
It seems as if all is darkness.
For one whose friend has passed away,
One whose teacher is gone for good,
There is no friend that can compare
With mindfulness of the body.
The old ones have all passed away;
I do not fit in with the new.
And so today I muse alone
Like a bird who has gone to roost.
Thag 17.3
trans. by Andrew Olendzki