“Only here is there purity”
— that’s what they say —
“No other doctrines are pure”
— so they say.
Insisting that what they depend on is good,
they are deeply entrenched in their personal truths.
Seeking debate, they plunge into an assembly,
regarding one another as fools.
Dependent on the authority of others,
they speak in dispute.
Desiring praise, they claim to be wise.
Engaged in disputes in the midst of the assembly,
— anxious, desiring praise —
the one defeated is staggered.
Shaken with criticism, he seeks for an opening.
He whose doctrine is judged as demolished,
defeated, by those judging the issue:
He laments, he grieves — the inferior exponent.
“He beat me,” he mourns.
These disputes have arisen among contemplatives.
In them are victory and defeat.
Seeing this, one should abstain from disputes,
for they have no other goal
than the gaining of praise.
He who is praised there
for expounding his doctrine
in the midst of the assembly,
laughs on that account and grows haughty,
attaining his heart’s desire.
That haughtiness will be his grounds for vexation,
for he’ll speak in over-estimation and pride.
Seeing this, one would abstain from disputes.
No purity is attained by them, say the wise.
Like a strong man nourished on royal food,
one goes about, roaring, searching out an opponent.
Wherever the opponent is,
go there, strong man.
As before, there’s no battle here.
Those who dispute, taking hold of a view,
saying, “This, and this only, is true,”
those you can talk to.
Here there is nothing —
at the birth of disputes.
Among those who live above confrontation
not pitting view against view,
whom would you gain as an opponent, Pasura,
among those who are grasping no more?
So here you come,
your mind conjuring
You’re paired off with a pure one,
and so cannot proceed.