Jenta, the High Priest’s Son

I was drunk with the pride of birth and wealth and authority. I wandered about intoxicated with my own gorgeous body. No one was my equal or my better— or so I thought. I was such an arrogant fool, stuck up, waving my own flag. I never paid homage to anyone: not even my mother or father, nor others esteemed as respectable. I was stiff with pride, lacking regard for others. When I saw the foremost leader, the most excellent of charioteers, shining like the sun at the fore of the mendicant Saṅgha, I discarded conceit and vanity, and, with a clear and confident heart, I bowed down with my head to the supreme among all beings. The conceit of superiority <j>and the conceit of inferiority have been given up and eradicated. The conceit “I am” is cut off, and every kind of conceit is destroyed.