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That is the treasure of all treasures, like the spouse of knowledge is sacred for centuries, isn't it!
First the mauna turns towards the soil;
like wax the maun melts
and his smiling mouth opens. Soft sweet like modaka (sweet balls) equanimous group of words
come out from his mouth:
"Oh mother soil! Regarding the craftsman your faith also seems unsteady, this is definite that
which slides, that which slips away
is called a river
and is temporary.
The ocean doesn't slide,
so is permanent;
but,
the river slides towards the ocean, doesn't it!
Otherwise,
neither the river will remain nor the ocean.
This sliding is the river's samiti (caution in one's actions),
this glancing is the river's pramiti (cognising, knowing),
this is what is called faith, that's all. The faith remains restless
118 Silent Soil
