11. Old Age

 Look at the decorated puppet, a mass of wounds and of composite parts, full of disease and always in need of attention. It has no enduring stability. 147 

 This body is worn out with age, a nest of diseases and falling apart. The mass of corruption disintegrates, and death is the end of life. 148 

 When these grey bones are cast aside like gourds in autumn, what pleasure will there be in looking at them? 149 

 It is a city built of bones, and daubed with flesh and blood, in which old age and death, pride and hypocrisy are the inhabitants. 150 

 Even kings' splendid carriages wear out, and the body is certain bound to grow old, but the Truth found by the saints is not subject to aging. That is what the saints themselves proclaim. 151 

 An ignorant man ages like an ox. His flesh may increase, but not his understanding. 152 

 I have passed in ignorance through a cycle of many rebirths, seeking the builder of the house. Continuous rebirth is a painful thing. But now, housebuilder, I have found you out. You will not build me a house again. All your rafters are broken, your ridge-pole shattered. My mind is free from active thought, and has made an end of craving. 153, 154 

 Those who have not lived the holy life, and have not acquired wealth in their youth, grow old like withered cranes beside a fishless pool. 155 

 Those who have not lived the holy life, and have not acquired wealth in their youth, lie like spent arrows, grieving for times past. 156