Then the monk -- admonished with this, the Blessed One's admonishment -- came to his senses.
So the Blessed One, having gone for alms in Varanasi, after the meal, returning from his alms round, addressed the monks [and told them what had happened].
When this was said, a certain monk said to the Blessed One, "What, lord, is putrefaction? What is the stench of carrion? What are flies?"
"Greed, monk, is putrefaction. Ill will is the stench of carrion. Evil, unskillful thoughts are flies. On one who lets himself putrefy & stink with the stench of carrion, there's no way that flies won't swarm & attack.
"On one whose eyes & ears
are unguarded,
whose senses
are unrestrained,
flies swarm:
resolves dependent on passion.
The monk who is putrid,
who stinks of the stench of carrion,
is far from Unbinding.
His share is vexation.Whether he stays
in village or wilderness,
having gained for himself no
tranquillity,
he's surrounded by flies.
But those who are consummate
in virtue,
who delight
in discernment & calm,
pacified, they sleep in ease.
No flies settle on them."