All of our sufferings derive from our habits
Of selfish delusions we heed and act out.
As all of us share in this tragic misfortune,
Which stems from our narrow and self-centered ways,

Uncontrollable wandering through rounds of existence
Is caused by our grasping at egos as real.
This ignorant attitude heralds the demon
Of selfish concern for our welfare alone:

And thus bodhisattvas are likened to peacocks:
They live on delusions - those poisonous plants.
Transforming them into the essence of practice,
They thrive in the jungle of everyday life.

How can someone who cherishes self more than others
Take lust and such dangerous poisons for food?
If he tried like a crow to use other delusions,

Now, desire is the jungle of poisonous plants here.
Only brave ones, like peacocks, can thrive on such fare.
If cowardly beings, like crows, were to try it,

We spend our whole lives in the search for enjoyment,
Yet tremble with fear at the mere thought of pain;
Thus since we are cowards, we are miserable still.

In similar fashion, the brave bodhisattvas
Remain in the jungle of worldly concern.
No matter how joyful this world's pleasure gardens,
These brave ones are never attracted to pleasures,

In jungles of poisonous plants strut the peacocks,
Though medicine gardens of beauty lie near.
The masses of peacocks don't find gardens pleasant,

Realizing this fact,
let the wise man,
restrained by morality,
hasten to clear the path
leading to Nibbana.

For him who is assailed by death
there is no protection by kinsmen.
None there are to save him --
no sons, nor father nor relatives.