Smote Translation

Although the festival of Phchum Ben has already passed, I've been working on studying a smote chant that's traditionally connected with this Khmer holiday. Phchum Ben literally means "lump of food," but a more descriptive translation is "the festival of hungry ghosts." My language teacher gave me an old cassette recording of the chant, and I poked around in a few Khmer-language Buddhist bookstores before finding an accurate transcription of it.

What I've translated here consists of two parts, a prose introduction, which is recited and accompanied by a tro sau (the string instrument I've been studying here), followed by a section in rhymed and versed poetry, sung a cappella in the smote style. On the whole, it is very beautiful piece, though like most smote, it is exceptionally sad and melacholy, with a clear intention to make the listeners weep. I don't think my translation conveys much of this feeling at all, so I hesitate to call it anywhere near adequate; however, hopefully it will suffice to give an example of what some smoat chants are about.


Translation of Dumnuanpretrongkamma (“Lamentation of the hungry ghosts bearing the results of their sins”)

Prose introduction:

Dear honorable and noble people, young and old, men and women, the month of the Festival of Hungry Ghosts has arrived. Only think about going to the temple. Don’t just stay around the house or go out carelessly seeking pleasure, saying that giving doesn’t have a good taste and only alcohol has a good taste, cursing others as you pass by, wandering back and forth across the street. That’s enough already, please stop! Stop and reflect carefully, change yourself and do good by offering food with the others. In your free time, don’t be useless.

Smote chant (in verse):

Parents live in order to support their children. When the end of their life arrives, they don’t know where they will be reborn: on earth as humans, in heaven as gods, or in the realm of the hungry ghosts.

If they are born in the superior realms as humans or gods, this excellent state was reached for a reason, as were very fearful about falling into the lower realms and becoming hungry ghosts, where their poor bellies would be empty and without food.

Hungry ghosts only can eat pus, blood and excrement. With a miserable body worthy of pity, and a life full of terrible suffering, they don’t know when they will be reborn as humans again.

All this came about because of sins they committed to support their children, evil deeds which caused them to lose their human life and be reborn as ghosts, enduring suffering without a trace of happiness. All people, all beings, should reflect about this carefully.

Now it is the tenth month, the month of the Festival of Hungry Ghosts, and the ghosts are wailing and screaming because they miss their children. The ruler of hell is setting the ghosts free, and they come at night to find their ancestors, their children or their spouse.

How pitiful, how worthy of compassion! The ghosts have tears flowing from their eyes as they bear such heavy suffering. They go from temple to temple, watching carefully, but they don’t see their wife or children.

They only see the relatives of others. They think hard about food and nourishment, hoping there will be rice, water, bread, and sweets that invite the ancestors to come and eat, until all of them are full.

But the ghosts do not say anything. They are lonesome and abandoned, crying so pitifully, hitting their bodies near the temple, enduring terrible and immense suffering.

They pound their chests and wail loudly, screaming, “O! How pitiful this body is!” When they were humans they carried heavy loads on their backs, day and night never sleeping in order to support their children.

But now, without knowing, they have fallen into the realm of hungry ghosts. Let them eat so that they feel satisfied and don’t have to always think, “O! How full of suffering this body is—abandoned, sore, painful, and miserable!”