Yoga Vasistha in Poem

Chapter One: Dealing with Dispassion

6e. The Body

A pitiable composition is this body
Source of pain though insentient
Delighted with a little gratification
Distressed by the least adversity
This body can be compared to a tree
Branches for arms, trunk for torso
Holes for eyes, fruits for head
Leaves for its abundant illnesses
Resting place for all living beings
Still we cannot say it is our own
A boat to cross life's turbulent ocean
It cannot be regarded as one's self
This tree born in the forest of samsara[1]
Restless monkey mind plays on it
Abode of crickets are our worries
Insects of suffering eat it constantly
Serpent of craving resides in it
Crow of anger stays here as well
Flowers of laughter, fruits good and bad
Wind of life-force does animate it
Birds on it are different senses
Resorted to by traveler of desire
Providing pleasure as its shade
Vulture of ego is seated on it
Hollow and empty is this tree
It cannot give lasting happiness
Living and falling in a short time
Subject to decay, old age and death
Filled with impurities is this body
I am not the least bit enamored by it
Afflicted by the disease of ignorance
How can this fulfill any hopes I have?
Home of illness and mental distress
With changing emotions and moods
Though we care and protect it well
It abandons us at death ruthlessly
Its only purpose is to burn at death
Shame on those bound to the body
Deluded by the wine of ignorance
Shame on those bound in this world

[1] Samsara: repetitive existence