"But," asked Vaccha persistently, "when one who has this emancipation of mind (freed from self) dies, where does he go, where is he reborn?
The Buddha replied:
"The word 'reborn' does not fit the case."
"Then he is not reborn?"
Along the riverbank under the trees, I discover footprints!
Even under the fragrant grass I see his prints.
Deep in remote mountains they are found.
These traces no more can be hidden than one's nose, looking heavenward.
Comment: Understanding the teaching, I see the footprints of the bull. Then I learn that, just as many utensils are made from one metal, so too are myriad entities made of the fabric of self. Unless I discriminate, how will I perceive the true from the untrue? Not yet having entered the gate, nevertheless I have discerned the path.