{"collection":"Khuddaka Nikaya","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/suttacentral_thig3.5/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/suttacentral_thig3.5","id":"suttacentral_thig3.5","license":"CC0","rights_basis":"suttacentral_bilara_data_cc0","source":"suttacentral","source_url":"https://suttacentral.net/thig3.5/en/sujato","summary":null,"tags":["Early Buddhist Texts","Khuddaka Nikaya"],"text":"\u201cYou cry \u2018Live, my dear mother!\u2019 in the forest. Ubbir\u012b, get a hold of yourself! Eighty-four thousand people, all named \u2018Live\u2019, have been burnt in this funeral ground: which one do you grieve for?\u201d \u201cOh! For you have plucked the arrow from me, so hard to see, stuck in the heart. You\u2019ve swept away the grief for my daughter in which I once was mired. Today I\u2019ve plucked the arrow, I\u2019m hungerless, quenched. I go for refuge to that sage, the Buddha, to his teaching, and to the Sa\u1e45gha.\u201d","title":"Ubbir\u012b","tradition":"Khuddaka Nikaya","translated_text":null,"word_count":89}