The grain: harvested.
The rice: gone to be threshed.
But I don't get any alms.
How will I get by?

	Confident, recollect 
	the immeasurable Buddha.
	Your body pervaded with rapture,
		you'll be at the height
		of continual joy.
	Confident, recollect 
	the immeasurable Dhamma.
	Your body pervaded with rapture,
		you'll be at the height
		of continual joy.
	Confident, recollect 
	the immeasurable Sangha.
	Your body pervaded with rapture,
		you'll be at the height
		of continual joy.

You live in the open air.
Cold are these wintry nights.
Don't suffer, overcome with the cold.
Go into your hut, with its fastened bolt.

	I'll fasten the four
	immeasurables.
	With them, I'll dwell 
		in comfort.
	I won't suffer from the cold,
		dwelling
		unperturbed.