In plain words
Only then does it stay well. If it does not leave that place, it turns into a swelling there. Disease comes. If there is no sacrifice, disease comes. In sacrifice there comes a yoga. Enjoyment comes. So our Ānanda lies in true sacrifice itself. In everything we must take up sacrifice in some measure. It was said: ‘This body is for the good of others.’ Wherever we look, all the trees give us their fruit for the good of others. For the good of others the cows cut even their own calves' share and give their milk in every way. For the good of others the rivers, without drinking their own water, sacrifice it as a help, to quench others' thirst and to grow the crops. But today man alone has no such sacrifice. Whatever he gets, he wants more, more. In him there is only taking; nowhere is the sacrifice of giving to be seen. That too is the root cause of so much unrest. That is the root cause of our grief. Some day or other we have to give up everything.
A hovel of filth, a servant's basket wasting away with disease, a tuber that stirs from its birth, a thornbush that cannot cross the ocean of birth, a quiver of arrows: rise and see! However we may prize it in thought, this body as steady, do not trust it, O mind; take refuge at the feet of Hari.
How long does this principle of the body last? It is like a bubble on water. Which minute? Which moment? Where or when, no one can say. So we need not think about the future. Because the future is not in our hands. You say tomorrow, tomorrow: what certainty is there that you will be here until tomorrow? So we must not look at all to what is called tomorrow. There is no use grieving over what has gone. You came along the road looking at it as you walked. So look ahead; why look back?
Keeping the present in view, we must do each task when it is due. Vēmana put this in a fine verse.