Taṇhā: Craving
Taṇhā is the thirst that reaches for whatever the eye lands on. "Whatever my eyes desired, I didn't keep from them," so the hand always followed the glance and nothing was left unreached for. Yet an eye that gets fed does not close; it opens toward the next thing, the way one mouthful of salt water only sharpens the thirst it was sent to end.
Upādāna: Clinging
Upādāna is the grip that will not let a single pleasure pass by. "I didn't withhold my heart from any joy," so the fist closed on each one in turn and loosened for none. Denying yourself nothing looks like the fullest freedom, though a hand clenched around everything at once holds no one thing well and can never open again to rest.
Assāda: Gratification
Assāda is the sweet taste that makes a thing worth all the chasing. "My heart rejoiced because of all my labor," the honey on the tongue that made the long sweat feel paid for at last. That sweetness is plain while it lasts, and it is the very thing that keeps the eye moving from one joy to the next and quietly hides the aftertaste still to come.
Anicca: Impermanence
Anicca means everything gathered is already passing. "This was my portion from all my labor," but the rejoicing he counts as his reward thins like morning mist off a warm field, the same vapor the whole long chase turns out to be. A portion you cannot hold past the moment it arrives is a portion in name only, already spent as it is received.
Dukkha: Unsatisfactoriness
Dukkha is the ache that no pile of pleasures can fill. Withholding the heart from no joy and still coming up with nothing but vapor points straight down to that ache. A cup that held its water would stop asking to be filled, so a heart handed every joy under the sun and still circling back to the well was leaking the whole time, not short of things to pour in.