Verses of the Senior Nuns 2.3

The Book of the Twos

Sumaṅgala’s Mother

I’m well freed, well freed,

so very well freed from the pestle!

My shameless husband was most certainly a mushroom,

my mortar wafted like an eel.

Greed and hate sizzle and hiss

as I squelch them.

Having gone to the root of a tree,

I meditate happily, thinking, “Oh, what bliss!”