By association with the exalted, Who would not become uplifted? The thread which strings the flowers Becomes a garland for the head.
Any man who strives to do his best Whether his work be great or small Is considered to be doing the work of a lion.
The career of a sage is of two kinds: He is either honored by all in the world, Like a flower waving its head, Or else he disappears into the silent forest.
Moral conduct, self-restraint, And control of the mind What else does one need Who perseveres in these?
One’s desire to be attractive and happy And to enjoy the pleasures of wealth, Is like the foolishness of a drunken person, Who, though healthy, must be carried.
The fire which burned the forest Became the companion of the wind. But just as the wind extinguished the fire, The weak man loses his friends.
There is no ornament like virtue, There is no misery like worry, There is no protection like patience, There is no friend equal to generosity.
Virtues are acquired through endeavor, Which rests wholly upon yourself. So, to praise others for their virtues Can but encourage one’s own efforts.
Although a cloth be washed a hundred times, How can it be rendered clean and pure If it be washed in water which is dirty?
The man against whom you feel anger in your heart Is not to be admonished by mere words. First, subdue him by force, And then use your weapon of words.