[885] Trees there are, tall as the crests of clouds, covered with thorns —
sharp thorns made of iron, that drink the blood of men.
Women climb them, and men who go to the wives of others,
goaded on by the spear-handed doers of the bidding of Yama.
As you climb that blood-smeared silk-cotton tree (simbali) in hell (niraya) —
your body pierced, stripped of skin, in anguish, racked with intense feeling (vedanā),
panting hot breaths again and again, guilty through your former deeds (kamma),
your limbs flayed upon that evil path — who would ask you for that wealth?
English translation from the Pali (Siam Raṭṭha edition) — under review, not for citation.