Thatch'n-twigs

I HEAR TELL:

Once upon a time Bhagava around Savatthi revisiting, Jeta-woods, Anathapindika's Park.

There to the Beggars gathered round he said:

Beggars!

And 'Broke Tooth', the Beggars responded.

Then Bhagava said:

Out of reach of the mind, beggars,
is the start of one's run-around,
not known is the beginning point
of beings reigned in by blindness,
bridled by thirst,
rolled-up in this our run'n-round.

If it happened, beggars,
that some man here
crafted together all the thatch and twigs
and branches and leaves
in this RoseAppleLand,
placing them together by hand
quadrangle by quadrangle
saying for each:
"This is my mother;
this is my mother's mother."

Not completely used up, beggars,
would be that man's mother's mothers

but the thatch and twigs
and branches and leaves
in this RoseAppleLand
would be thoroughly spent,
thoroughly used up.

How come?

Out of reach of the mind, beggars,
is the start of one's run-around,
not known is the beginning point of
beings reigned in by blindness,
bridled by thirst,
rolled-up in this our run'n-round.

Many a long day, beggars,
have you lived tortured by pain,
tortured by terror,
tortured by bad luck,
filling the cemeteries.

Enough is enough, beggars!
Enough to have had enough
of every confounded thing,
enough for disinterest in it,
enough for freedom from it.