However long they dwell with him, though kind and loving he,
Tender of heart and dear to them as life itself may be,
In times of trouble and distress, leave him they will and must,
I for my part in womenfolk can never put my trust.

How often is a woman's mind like shifty monkey's found,
Or like the shade cast by a tree on height or depth around,
How changeful too the purpose lodged within a woman's breast,
Like tire of wheel revolving swift without a pause or rest.

Whene'er with due reflection they look round and see their way
To captivate some man of wealth and make of him their prey,
Such simpletons with words so soft and smooth they captive lead,
E'en as Cambodian groom with herbs will catch the fiercest steed.

But if when looking round with care they fail to see their way
To get possession of his wealth and make of him a prey,
They drive him off, as one that now has reached the furthest shore
And cuts adrift the ferry boat he needeth nevermore.

Like fierce devouring flame they hold him fast in their embrace,
Or sweep him off like stream in flood that hurries on apace;
They court the man they hate as much as one that they adore,
E'en as a ship that hugs alike the near and farther shore.

They not to one or two belong, like open stall are they,
One might as soon catch wind with net as women hold in sway.

[446] Like river, road, or drinking shed , assembly hall or inn,
So free to all are womenfolk, no limits check their sin.

Fell as black serpent's head are they, as ravenous as a fire,
As kine the choicest herbage pick, they lovers rich desire.

From elephant, black serpent, and from flame that's fed on ghee,
From man besprinkled to be king, and women we should flee.
All these whoso is on his guard will treat as deadly foe,
Indeed their very nature it is very hard to know.

Women who very clever are or very fair to view,
And such as many men admire--all these one should eschew:
A neighbour's wife and one that seeks a man of wealth for mate,
Such kind of women, five in all, no man should cultivate.

[447] When he had thus spoken the people applauded the Great Being, crying, "Bravo, well said!" and after telling of the faults of women in these instances he held his peace. On hearing him Ananda, the vulture king, said, "My friend, Kunala, I too by my own powers of knowledge will tell of women's faults," and he began to speak of them. The Blessed One by way of illustration said: "Then, verily, Ananda, the vulture king, marking the beginning, middle and end of what the bird Kunala had to say, at this time uttered these stanzas: