---
ai_generation_date: '2026-09-08'
ai_model: gemini-3-pro-preview
audiodharma:
  talks:
    - date: '2020-08-10'
      mp3_url: https://audiodharma.us-east-1.linodeobjects.com/talks/11850/20200810-Diana_Clark-IMC-poems_of_the_ther_s.mp3
      speakers:
        - speaker_name: Diana Clark
          speaker_url: https://www.audiodharma.org/speakers/240
      talk_start_time_seconds: 0
      title: "Poems of the Ther\u012Bs"
      url: https://www.audiodharma.org/talks/11850
      video_unavailable: false
location_city: Redwood City, CA
video_unavailable: false
youtube:
  id: evh0QeJG4gQ
  imprecise_upload_date: '2021-05-04'
  title: Inspiring Poems from the First Buddhist Nuns ~ Diana Clark
  upload_date: null
  uploader_str: Insight Meditation Center
  uploader_url: https://www.youtube.com/@InsightMeditationCenter
youtube_url: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=evh0QeJG4gQ
---

# Poems of the Therīs - [Diana Clark](https://www.audiodharma.org/speakers/240)

_This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video above. It likely contains inaccuracies, especially with speaker attribution if there are multiple speakers._

## [Poems of the Therīs](https://www.audiodharma.org/talks/11850)

Good evening. It is such a pleasure to be here. You will see that Paṭācārā[^1] is sitting behind me. I think she is scheduled to go down to the Insight Retreat Center tomorrow, so this might be one of her last views up here at IMC. I should be down at IRC when that becomes open. I think Gil [Fronsdal] mentioned it, so I am hoping that with the air being a little bit more moist down there, I can help mitigate some of the cracks that have started to show up a little bit here.

For those of you who don't know, Paṭācārā is a renowned teacher from the time of the Buddha. Some of her teachings, as well as how she came to the practice and her awakening experience, are captured in some of the Buddhist scriptures, the suttas[^2]. This is preserved in a collection of poems which is the first anthology of women's literature in the world. This is the oldest literature that is attributed to women, and it definitely has a feminine stance, a feminine feel to some of these verses. If I remember correctly, I think there are 72 or 73 different poems. Some of them have just a single verse, and some of them are quite long with many verses.

Many of these are their awakening poems—what they exclaimed when they became awakened or enlightened. These verses belong to a type of literature that is said to rise up out of joy and euphoria, so often they are like exclamations. Sometimes the verses seem as if she is saying something out loud, making an exclamation in a conventional way we might think about it. Other times, we could interpret it as if somebody is speaking to her, maybe the Buddha. We might imagine that somebody is speaking, or we might imagine that she is bringing to mind some instructions that she heard, which helped support her and move her towards awakening.

This collection of poems is called the Therīgāthā[^3]. There are a number of different translations available if you are interested; you could always Google it: T-H-E-R-I. We don't pronounce the "h," it is a Pali[^4] word meaning elder, but it's feminine. _Thera_ would be the masculine, and _therī_ is the feminine. And _gāthā_ is verse. So, Therīgāthā. In these verses, the women describe their emotions, their thoughts, and some of what they did that led to their awakening. These women were individuals who chose to ordain as nuns, which makes sense at that time in ancient India. If you really wanted to dedicate your life to practice, there weren't meditation centers or Dharma books, so you ordained. This was true both for the men and for the women.

These women include those born into abject poverty as well as those with limitless, tremendous wealth. There are tired wives complaining a little bit about their husbands, and some who were desperately in love with their husbands. It includes daughters left orphaned, and it also includes mothers and grandmothers who lost their children. There is a lot of suffering as part of these stories.

## A Different Style of Teaching

In the Buddhist scriptures, there is a lot of prose and a lot of verse. There are certain collections that are nothing but verse, the Therīgāthā, Theragāthā, and the Dhammapada[^5] being some examples. It is also not uncommon in some suttas for there to be a lot of prose, ending with a capping verse where the Buddha summarizes the main teachings. There are these two different styles of teachings that are preserved in two different ways.

Some of the teachings, as you know if you have been studying Buddhism or listening to a number of Dharma talks, are very pedagogical. For instance, the second factor in the Eightfold Path is wise intention, and wise intention has three elements: renunciation, goodwill, and harmlessness. It's a list. Sometimes it is really helpful for us to have clear guidelines and lists that delineate and make it clear what is being spoken about. Sometimes there are really evocative similes and metaphors that are part of the prose.

But there is also a part of us that doesn't need clear guidelines or instructions, but rather needs to be touched and inspired. We need to feel something differently or understand something differently than if we were just hearing a list of things or hearing a story. This different style is perhaps intended to touch a different part of us. That is one way we can consider these verses.

Not too long ago, Gil wrote an article talking about beauty. He translated the word _kalyāṇa_ as beauty. You might be familiar with this word from the expression _kalyāṇa-mitta_[^6], which we often translate as "good spiritual friends," but could also be translated as "beautiful friends." This sense of spiritual beauty is a real part of Buddhist practice. It is an invaluable way to inform our practice, and it can be a companion, a foundation, and a guide.

When we have this inner beauty, or we tune into a sense of what is touching and what is beautiful, it can teach us freedom from maliciousness, possessiveness, or conceit, helping us align with what is beautiful. This is not so much about what is aesthetically pleasing or pretty, but qualities that lift the heart and inspire the mind. In the suttas, _kalyāṇa_ is closely associated with virtue and goodness. To have a beautiful heart is to have a virtuous heart; to have inner goodness is to have inner beauty. Beauty is more of a feeling or an experience than just an intellectual idea of aesthetics. I want to introduce the idea that some of these verses are beautiful and can touch us in a profound way.

## Translating Pali Poetry

Before I share some verses from the Therīgāthā, I'll make a small comment about translation. Translating a verse in Pali has its own set of challenges, and opportunities. Just as in English poetry where we use poetic forms of words or turns of phrase that we don't use in conventional language, it is the same with Pali. In Pali verse, you find archaic forms of grammar and words.

In addition, just as Shakespeare used iambic pentameter, Pali verse has a very particular meter. This means the composer of the verse has to choose their words to meet the meter—which syllable is long, which syllable is short. In order to meet the meter, they might not include a verb or a noun, assuming you will figure out that they meant the noun from two lines earlier.

Because of this, if you look at different translations, you'll see they are wildly different. It is possible to have completely different translations that are still true to the Pali, because the verse leaves the opportunity for many interpretations. When I go to translate some of these verses, sometimes I don't even know where to begin.

## Dhammā

I would like to read a poem from a nun named Dhammā. _Dhamma_ (or Dharma) can be understood in lots of different ways: maybe the teaching, a mental state, or the way things are. In this poem, we see that moments of clarity, transformation, or understanding can arise when we least expect them. That is true for many of us—when we're not trying so hard is when something new can happen. This is why we often have new ideas in the shower!

In this poem, Dhammā sees the danger in what can happen when we are strictly identified with our bodies. She recognizes that our bodies will always fail us in some way eventually; if not sickness, then aging. It's just a natural part of what it means to have a body. When we let go of our obsessions with our bodies, a certain freedom can arise.

This is her very short verse, translated by Bhikkhu Sujato[^7]. As a nun, she gets her food from lay people who support her by offering alms. Here we go:

> "I wandered for alms though feeble, leaning on a staff. My limbs wobbled and I fell to the ground right there. Seeing the danger of the body, my mind was freed."

It's quite something to feel unsteady, to feel yourself falling, and then in that moment to find freedom. I feel touched by this recognition. It wasn't that she was sitting upright in some beautiful meditation posture; it was just in her daily life, wandering for alms, obtaining the food for a meal.[^8]

Recently, there has been a book called _The First Free Women_ by Matty Weingast[^9], who was inspired by these poems to write his own versions. They are not literal translations, but an inspiring contemporary interpretation. Here is his poem, inspired by Dhammā's:

> "Another day walking in circles with an empty bowl, leaning on my staff in the middle of the road, my whole body shaking with hunger. What little strength I had left, left me. As I was falling to the ground, I saw I was the spoonful of rice and this whole world the bowl. You can't miss even if you try."

That last line, "you can't miss even if you try," helps us to feel a little bit bigger. We feel less that there has to be a small self that is driving, striving to get things just perfect. Instead, Matty Weingast[^10] points out that awakening doesn't have to happen in any particular way.

## Cittā

Here is another very short poem by a nun named Cittā. You may know this word from the expression _bodhicitta_[^11]. _Citta_ is often translated as mind or heart; it is translator's choice because they didn't make a distinction in ancient India.

Cittā sits down to rest after making some great effort, and she becomes awakened. This brings to mind the story of the Buddha, who also made tremendous effort and became emaciated from fasting and extreme asceticism. He was weak and feeble, but he ate a little bit, went to sit, and then became awakened. I feel an echo of that in this poem.

This is the translation by Bhikkhu Sujato. As an aside, if you are interested, you can find Bhikkhu Sujato's translations of the Therīgāthā at SuttaCentral.net.

Here is Cittā's poem:

> "Though I'm skinny, sick, and very feeble, I climb the mountain leaning on a staff. Having laid down my outer robe and overturned my bowl, propping myself against a rock, I shattered the mass of darkness."

We can understand the mass of darkness as ignorance. She shattered ignorance. I like this idea that she is leaning against a rock, steady and solid, and then we have this evocative, powerful verb: "I shattered." Just like the Buddha, there was a lot of effort, and then not so much effort.

Here is Matty Weingast's inspired version:

> "Somehow I kept climbing, though tired, hungry, and weak. Old, too. At the top of the mountain, I spread my outer robe on a rock to dry, set down my staff and bowl, took a deep breath, and looked around. It was windy up there. As I was leaning back against a large gray rock, the darkness that I had carried up and down a million mountains slipped off my shoulders and swept itself away on the wind."

"The darkness that I had carried up and down a million mountains slipped off my shoulders and swept itself away on the wind." The heaviness that we carry on our shoulders is just carried away by the wind. I feel touched by this movement towards letting go. Letting go of clinging and grabbing is such a big part of Buddhist practice.

## Sāmā

Here is another poem by a woman named Sāmā. This one includes direct references to the Buddha. As opposed to evoking or reminding us of his stories, she speaks of him directly.

Here is the translation by Bhikkhu Sujato:

> "In the twenty-five years since I went forth, I don't know that I had ever found serenity in my mind. I had failed to find peace of heart or any control over my mind. When I remembered the Victor's instructions, I was struck with a sense of urgency."

The "Victor" is how she is referring to the Buddha.

> "Though subject to so many painful things, I have, through my love of diligence, reached the end of craving and fulfilled the Buddha's instructions. This is the seventh day since my craving dried up."

She points to her love of diligence and how that was a support to her, bringing to mind the instructions that she had heard from the Buddha.

Here is Matty Weingast's interpretation:

> "After twenty-five years on the path, I had experienced almost everything except peace. When I was young, my mother told me that I would find true happiness only in marriage. Remembering her words all those years later, something in me began to tremble. I gave myself to the trembling, and it showed me all the pain this little heart had ever known, and how countless lives of searching had brought me at last to the present moment, which I happily married. Can you imagine? We've been living together ever since without a single argument."

It is a delightful way to think about awakening—marrying the present moment and not arguing with the experience that we are having.

## Vīrā

I will close with this very short poem. Her name is Vīrā. This name is related to the word _vīriya_[^12], which we sometimes translate as energy or effort, but it can also refer to a hero or a warrior.

This translation is by Bhikkhu Sujato. It is in the third person, so we can imagine either she is remembering this, or somebody is speaking to her.

> "She is known as Vīrā because of her heroic qualities. A nun with faculties developed, she bears her final body, having vanquished Māra[^13] and his mount."

I like this idea that she is heroic and has effort and energy. She has these heroic qualities with faculties developed. _Vīriya_ is one of the five spiritual faculties, so she is someone who has been practicing, cultivating, and developing them.

The expression that "she bears her final body" means that she won't be reborn; that is a characteristic of somebody who is completely awakened. She has "vanquished Māra and his mount." You might know the story of Māra, the personification of obstacles and difficulties that get in the way of awakening. There is a story of Māra riding an elephant into battle with the Buddha, shooting arrows which the Buddha converts to flowers. In the same way that the Buddha became awakened, Vīrā did as well.

I will end with Matty Weingast's poem inspired by this:

> "Truly strong among those who think themselves strong. Truly unafraid among those who hide their fear. A hero among those who talk of heroes. Don't be fooled by outward signs—lifting heavy things, or picking fights with weaker opponents, and running headfirst into battle. A real hero walks the path to its end, then shows others the way."

"A real hero walks the path to its end, then shows others the way."

May our exploration of some of these verses and poems tonight inspire you in some kind of way. Maybe they touched something, or maybe there was a little bit of beauty there. May it be a support for you and your practice, so that you may walk the path to its end and show others the way.

Thank you.

---

[^1]: **Paṭācārā:** A prominent Buddhist nun during the time of the Buddha, noted for her mastery of the monastic discipline (Vinaya) and her tragic life story prior to ordaining.

[^2]: **Suttas:** The scriptural discourses of the Buddha.

[^3]: **Therīgāthā:** A Buddhist text, a collection of short poems by early women who were elder nuns (_therīs_). It is often considered the earliest known collection of women's literature.

[^4]: **Pali:** The ancient language in which the scriptures of Theravada Buddhism are preserved.

[^5]: **Dhammapada:** A well-known collection of verses containing sayings of the Buddha.

[^6]: **Kalyāṇa-mitta:** A Pali term meaning "beautiful friend" or "good spiritual friend."

[^7]: **Bhikkhu Sujato:** A contemporary Buddhist monk and translator of Pali texts.

[^8]: Original transcript said "painting the food", corrected to "obtaining the food" based on context.

[^9]: **Matty Weingast:** Author of _The First Free Women_, a contemporary poetic adaptation of the Therīgāthā.

[^10]: Original transcript said "instead with marijuana", corrected to "Instead, Matty Weingast" based on context.

[^11]: **Bodhicitta:** In Mahayana Buddhism, the mind that strives toward awakening, empathy, and compassion for the benefit of all sentient beings.

[^12]: **Vīriya:** A Pali word typically translated as energy, effort, or diligence. It is one of the five spiritual faculties (indriya).

[^13]: **Māra:** The demonic celestial king who tempted Prince Siddhartha (the future Buddha). Often used as a personification of unwholesome impulses, obstacles, and difficulties on the path to awakening.
