Vimalā, the Former Courtesan

Intoxicated by my appearance,

my figure, my beauty, my fame,

and owing to my youth,

I looked down on others.

I adorned this body

all pretty, lamented by fools,

and stood at the brothel door,

like a hunter setting a snare.

I stripped for them,

revealing my many hidden treasures.

Creating an intricate illusion,

I laughed, teasing those men.

Today, having wandered for alms,

my head shaven, wearing the outer robe,

I sat at the root of a tree to meditate;

I’ve gained freedom from thought.

All yokes are severed,

both human and heavenly.

Having wiped out all defilements,

I have become cooled and quenched.