वेगं संरोद्धुमुदितो वात्ययेव जरत्तृणम् । नीतः कलुषया क्वाऽपि तृष्णया चित्तचातकः ॥ ७ ॥
vēgaṁ saṁrōddhumuditō vātyayēva jarattṛṇam | nītaḥ kaluṣayā kvā’pi tṛṣṇayā cittacātakaḥ || 7 ||
Translation
Just when the cātaka bird of my mind has risen to check its own wildness, it is carried off somewhere by foul craving, like an old straw by a gale.
Word by word
- vēgaṁ
- its own wildness
- saṁrōddhum
- to check
- uditō
- (uditaḥ) has risen
- vātyayā
- by a gale
- iva
- like
- jarat
- an old
- tṛṇam
- straw
- nītaḥ
- is carried off
- kaluṣayā
- by foul
- kva
- somewhere
- api
- or other
- tṛṣṇayā
- craving
- citta
- of my mind
- cātakaḥ
- the cātaka bird
Meaning
The cātaka is the bird of the poets that drinks only rain, waiting with open beak for the clouds. The mind is such a bird: it longs for a higher water, which the commentary names as dharma, the cloud of contemplation, the nectar of samādhi. And just when it rises to restrain its restlessness and wait for that rain, craving sweeps it away like an old straw in a whirlwind, to some unfit object. This is the experience of every beginner in practice: the very moment one sits to be still, the mind is gone.