The grain: harvested. The rice: gone to be threshed. But I don't get any alms. How will I get by? Confident, recollect the immeasurable Buddha. Your body pervaded with rapture, you'll be at the height of continual joy. Confident, recollect the immeasurable Dhamma. Your body pervaded with rapture, you'll be at the height of continual joy. Confident, recollect the immeasurable Sangha. Your body pervaded with rapture, you'll be at the height of continual joy. You live in the open air. Cold are these wintry nights. Don't suffer, overcome with the cold. Go into your hut, with its fastened bolt. I'll fasten the four immeasurables. With them, I'll dwell in comfort. I won't suffer from the cold, dwelling unperturbed.