To flit. Safe is the Ajakarani.
She brings us luck! Here it is good to be.”[[5]]
[5] These Psalms are all translated by C. F. Rhys Davids.
Thus very great joy had come to be by the Blessed One’s sufferings, and for each pang he had paid came a golden harvest of the peace of others.
To Him who had thus Attained came men and women from far and near with doubts and questions, and seated with dignity (for his noble Aryan birth was upon him as well as the Peace) he received them all, answering and resolving their doubts, nor was it difficult for him to do this for his eyes were as the sun in his strength to divide light from darkness.
Yet let it be well understood that of certain things he would not speak, counting them beyond human knowledge and knowing well that in no human speech are there words to bear the burden of the Ineffable. Therefore when men asked him of the Beginning, how division from the Eternal into the false ego-self came into the world and from what well of bitterness evil thought and evil doing flowed to become tears and blood in their flowing, he would not answer, for none but a Buddha can comprehend the deepest, and he only in ways beyond transmission to others. And he would say:
“The arrow sticks in the wound, will you wait before the healer draws it out to enquire of what wood is it made and whether the bowstring is of hair or vegetable fibre? Life is ebbing while you theorize credulously about present and future, self or identity. Of the origins I do not teach.”
And when again they besought him to say whether life or nothingness lay beyond death, only his own nearest disciples could read the fathomless depths of his calm, looking rather to this than to his speech. For he said, being alone with them to whom it was given to know: