Anicca: Impermanence
Whatever arises passes. The pleasant things from the days of old were on loan the whole time, the treasure in the storehouse no less than the crowds at the gate, and their loss only reveals what they always were. Grief here carries the shock of learning late what was true from the beginning.
Vipariṇāma-dukkha: Suffering in change
This is the particular ache that arrives when something good turns. Memory comes in the days of affliction, which is why it burns: the same recollection that warmed a full city cuts in an emptied one. A thing does not have to be bad for its ending to hurt.
Piyehi vippayogo: Separation from what is dear
Parting from the loved is one of the plainest forms of suffering. Her people fell into the hand of the adversary, and that wound differs in kind from the loss of walls and vessels. A mind can accept that a city burns long before it accepts that the people inside are gone.
Soka-parideva: Sorrow and lamentation
Sorrow is the inward weight, lamentation the sound it makes in the mouth. Both belong to honest grief, and neither needs to be hushed or hurried along. Going over the pleasant days again feeds the ache; looking straight at the loss is what loosens it.
Atāṇo loko: The world has no protector
Nothing stands over the world to hold back what comes. She looked for a helper and none came, allies and treaties and neighboring kings all failing in the same hour. Refuge that holds has to be built inwardly, since no arrangement outside can be counted on to arrive in time.
Aṭṭha lokadhammā: The eight worldly conditions
Gain and loss, honor and disgrace, praise and blame, pleasure and pain swing back and forth like weather. Adversaries who once eyed her walls with respect now stand in the rubble and laugh, the same crowd that admired turning to jeers once fortune moved. Anyone who rests their heart on being admired has placed it in the hands of people who will change their minds.