There's a mess inside you:
You clean the outside.

But the scent of the good is blown against the wind:
A good man perfumes all directions.

One who utters speech that isn't rough
But instructive and truthful
So that he offends no one,
Him I call Brahmin.

In the village, a sage should go about
Like a bee, which, not harming
Flower, colour or scent,
Flies off with the nectar.

A person of little knowledge
Grows old as a plough-ox grows old.
His fleshes increases;
His wisdom does not increase.

From the dear comes grief;
From the dear comes fear.
If you're freed from the dear
You'll have no grief, let alone fear.