[209] Bhikkhus, suppose there were a great tree. Then a man would come along, bringing a spade and basket (kuddālapiṭaka). He would cut that tree down at the root; having cut it at the root, he would dig it up; having dug it up, he would pull out the roots, even down to those the size of usīra-reed fibers. He would cut that tree into pieces large and small; having cut it into pieces, he would split them; having split them, he would reduce them to slivers; having reduced them to slivers, he would dry them in wind and sun; having dried them in wind and sun, he would burn them with fire; having burned them with fire, he would reduce them to ashes; having reduced them to ashes, he would winnow them in a strong wind or let them be carried away by a river with a swift current. In this way, bhikkhus, that great tree would be cut off at the root, made like a palm stump, brought to non-existence, of a nature not to arise again in the future. Even so, bhikkhus, for one who dwells contemplating danger (ādīnava) in things that can be clung to (upādāniyesu dhammesu), craving (taṇhā) ceases. With the cessation of craving comes the cessation of clinging (upādāna); with the cessation of clinging comes the cessation of existence (bhava) … Such is the cessation of this whole mass of suffering (dukkha).
The Fifth [Sutta].
English translation from the Pali (Siam Raṭṭha edition) — under review, not for citation.