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 I.1 — An Anonymous Bhikkhuni {v. 1}   | 
          
      
       (I.1) Bài Kệ Này Do Một Trưởng Lăo Ni Không Biết Tên Nói Lên  | 
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 Sleep, little theri, sleep comfortably, wrapped in the robe that you've made, for your passion is stilled — like a pot of pickled greens boiled dry.  | 
          
      
       
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 I.3 — Punna {v. 3}   | 
          
      
       (I.3) Punnà  | 
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 Punna, grow full with good qualities like the moon on the fifteenth day. With discernment at total fullness, burst the mass of darkness.  | 
          
      
       
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 I.11 — Mutta {v. 11}   | 
      
       (I.11) Muttà  | 
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 So freed! So thoroughly freed am I! — from three crooked things set free: from mortar, pestle, & crooked old husband. Having uprooted the craving that leads to becoming, I'm set free from aging & death.  | 
         
 
      
       
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 I.17 — Dhamma {v. 17}   | 
         
 
      
       (I.17) Dhammà  | 
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 Wandering for alms — weak, leaning on a staff, with trembling limbs — I fell down right there on the ground. Seeing the drawbacks of the body, my mind was then set free.  | 
         
 
      
       
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