Quivering, wavering, hard to guard, to hold in check: the mind. The sage makes it straight — like a fletcher, the shaft of an arrow. Like a fish pulled from its home in the water & thrown on land: this mind flips & flaps about to escape Mara's sway. Hard to hold down, nimble, alighting wherever it likes: the mind. Its taming is good. The mind well-tamed brings ease. So hard to see, so very, very subtle, alighting wherever it likes: the mind. The wise should guard it. The mind protected brings ease. Wandering far, going alone, bodiless, lying in a cave: the mind. Those who restrain it: from Mara's bonds they'll be freed.

For a person of unsteady mind, not knowing true Dhamma, serenity set adrift: discernment doesn't grow full.

For a person of unsoddened mind, unassaulted awareness, abandoning merit & evil, wakeful, there is no danger no fear.

Knowing this body is like a clay jar, securing this mind like a fort, attack Mara with the spear of discernment, then guard what's won without settling there, without laying claim.

All too soon, this body will lie on the ground cast off, bereft of consciousness, like a useless scrap of wood.

Whatever an enemy might do to an enemy, or a foe to a foe, the ill-directed mind can do to you even worse. Whatever a mother, father or other kinsman might do for you, the well-directed mind can do for you even better.