Toh 76The Noble Mahāyāna Sūtra “Aśokadattā’s Prophecy”

Summary

In this Mahāyāna sūtra, a group of the Buddha’s most eminent śrāvaka
disciples are collecting alms in the city of Rājagṛha when they arrive at the
palace of King Ajātaśatru. There, the king’s daughter Aśokadattā, who is seated
on an ornate throne, neither rises from her seat to greet them nor pays them any
form of respect. Outraged by her rudeness, the king chastises her. The girl is
unrepentant, and in a series of elegant verses she explains to her father the
superiority of the bodhisattva path, which renders such obeisance to śrāvakas
inappropriate. The eminent śrāvaka disciples then engage the girl in debate, but
each in turn is silenced by the eloquence and confidence of her replies, by
which she deconstructs their questions based on her knowledge of the emptiness
of all phenomena. Having thus impressed them, she descends from her throne and
serves them humbly with food and drink. They then all go together to Vulture
Peak, where the Buddha prophesies her future full awakening.

Acknowledgements

This text was translated by Jed Forman and Erdene Baatar Erdene-Ochir of
the UCSB Buddhist Studies Translation Group.

The translation was completed under the patronage and supervision of
84000: Translating the Words of the Buddha. George FitzHerbert edited the
translation and the introduction, and Laura Goetz copyedited the text. Martina
Cotter was in charge of the digital publication process.

Introduction

This Mahāyāna sūtra in the Heap of
Jewels (Tib. dkon
brtsegs, Skt. ratnakūṭa) collection recounts the story of its titular
character, Aśokadattā, who was a daughter of King
Ajātaśatru, the famed lord of Rājagṛha and a major patron of the Buddhist
community during the latter part of the Buddha’s life.

One day, while the Buddha was staying at nearby Vulture Peak, a
large group of śrāvaka disciples including such eminent figures as
Śāriputra, Mahāmaudgalyāyana, Mahākāśyapa, Subhūti, Rāhula, and others go
into the city of Rājagṛha to collect alms, eventually arriving at the palace
of King Ajātaśatru. When the king’s daughter Aśokadattā sees the disciples
arriving, she neither rises from her seat nor makes any sign of greeting or
respect. Her father is dismayed by her rudeness and chastises her for her
impudence, but Aśokadattā is unrepentant. She defends her behavior with a
series of eloquent analogies, illustrating for her father that those who
follow the śrāvaka path are not worthy of respect or veneration, since they
have failed to accept the full wealth offered by the Buddha’s Dharma. This,
she says, is in contrast to bodhisattvas, who are motivated to help others
on the path to liberation, and who have embraced the more profound teachings
on the emptiness of all phenomena. Śrāvakas, she says, are like physicians
concerned only with treating themselves, or travelers who depend on the
hospitality of others. Bodhisattvas, on the other hand, are like physicians
who care for others just as they care for themselves, or like those who
generously share their provisions with others while on the road. Śrāvakas,
she says, are like passengers on a boat, while bodhisattvas are like the
captains of ships. While the light of a bodhisattva shines like the sun, the
light of a śrāvaka is as dim as a firefly, and “who,” Aśokadattā asks,
“would relinquish the sun and the moon to pay homage to fireflies?”

In turn, each of the eminent śrāvakas engages the girl in debate,
but each is left speechless by her responses and expresses awe at the
eloquence and confidence with which she is able expound the Dharma and her
acumen in deconstructing conventional distinctions from the perspective of
the emptiness of all phenomena. On hearing her insightful and eloquent
teachings, the mind set on complete awakening (Skt. bodhicitta) is stirred in twenty
of the ladies of the royal household, including Aśokadattā’s own mother, the
queen consort Moonlit. Aśokadattā then descends from her throne and humbly
serves the śrāvakas with food and drink, and they all go together to Vulture
Peak for an audience with the Buddha himself.

When the Buddha is informed of the girl’s extraordinary eloquence
and confidence, he explains that she has already cultivated roots of virtue
with countless buddhas in former lives. Śāriputra then inquires why, if she
has already accumulated such roots of virtue, does she still have a female
form? The Buddha rebuffs Śāriputra’s question, saying that bodhisattvas may
manifest in whatever form they wish. Aśokadattā adds the rejoinder that in
truth “all phenomena are neither male nor female,” and to illustrate the
point she transforms in front of them into a male form and in a state of
ecstasy rises into the sky to the height of seven palm trees. The Buddha
then prophecies Aśokadattā’s future awakening as a truly complete buddha and
that her mother, too, will attain awakening in the same future world system.
The bodhisattva Aśokadattā then descends from the sky and takes the form of
a monk, illustrating for the king that all experienced phenomena are the
contrivances of perception. The Buddha then instructs Ānanda to memorize and
widely propagate the discourse.

Aśokadattā’s Prophecy is among several
sūtras that have a female bodhisattva as their main protagonist. Several of
these feature the daughters of kings. Another daughter of King Ajātaśatru,
Vimalaprabhā, is the main protagonist in The Questions
of Vimalaprabhā (Vimalaprabhaparipṛcchā, Toh 168). Daughters of
King Prasenajit are the main protagonists in The
Questions of the Girl Vimalaśraddhā (Dārikāvimalaśraddhāparipṛcchā, Toh 84),
The Questions of Vimaladattā (Vimaladattaparipṛcchā, Toh 77),
and The Lion’s Roar of Śrīmālādevī (Śrīmālādevīsiṃhanāda, Toh 92). In
The Prophecy of Kṣemavatī (Kṣemavatīvyākaraṇa, Toh 192), King Bimbisāra’s
queen Kṣemavatī receives a prediction of future awakening, as do the main
protagonists in The Questions of Śrīmatī the Brahmin
Woman (Śrīmatībrāhmaṇīparipṛcchā, Toh 170) and The Prophecy of the Girl Candrottarā (Candrottarādārikāvyākaraṇa, Toh 191). Laywomen of
lesser social status who are likewise prophesied to achieve awakening are
the main interlocutors in The Questions of the Girl
Sumati (Sumatidārikāparipṛcchā, Toh 74),  The Questions of Gaṅgottarā (Gaṅgottaraparipṛcchā, Toh 75),  The Questions of an Old Lady (Mahallikāparipṛcchā, Toh 171), and The City Beggar Woman (Nāgarāvalambikā, Toh 205). In The Miraculous Play of Mañjuśrī (Mañjuśrīvikrīḍita, Toh 96), a
courtesan also receives such a prophecy. While some of the women in these
sūtras aspire to be reborn as males as they progress toward awakening, the
point emphasized in many of these discourses, including this one, is that
there is no gender in the awakened state. Nevertheless, the accounts all
culminate in the prediction that the female protagonist will ultimately
become an apparently male buddha.

Aśokadattā’s Prophecy does not appear
to have been widely referenced by the Buddhist scholar-monks in ancient
India. However, it is cited at some length in The
Compendium of Sūtra Teachings on the Stages of Meditation
(Bhāvanākramasūtrasamuccaya),
one of four compendia included in the Middle Way (dbu ma) section of the Tengyur. The section cited
there includes the following:

Dear father, though hundreds of jackals may howl,

The herds of wild animals are unperturbed.

But when a lion roars, elephants, beasts, and birds alike

Flee in all directions.

Dear father, see that the śrāvakas are like jackals.

Their words scare not the demons,

But demons and their kind are terrified

When a king conducts himself as a bodhisattva.

Bodhidhara (fl. 1000 ce), a teacher at
Nālandā University and a guru of the famed Atiśa, also references
this passage in passing in his Text on the Tools for
Concentration (Samādhisambhāraparivarta), stating that it
contains “methods for averting the activity of demons” (Tib. bdud kyi las bzlog pa'i thabs). Both
The Compendium of Sūtra Teachings on the Stages of
Meditation and The Text on the Tools for
Concentration are essentially meditation manuals, so it is
interesting to find them quoting Aśokadattā’s
Prophecy, which itself gives no specific instructions on
meditation.

There is no extant Sanskrit witness to this text. It was translated
twice into Chinese, first by Dharmarakṣa in 317 ce (Taishō 337) and then again by Buddhaśānta in 539 ce (Taishō 310/32). Though Buddhaśānta’s Chinese
version, as translated into English in Chang 1983, is close in
narrative structure to the Tibetan, there are also some differences in the
order of events and many divergences in detail. For example, there is a
notable difference between the Tibetan and the Chinese in the treatment of
Aśokadattā’s gender transformation. While the Tibetan version leaves us with
Aśokadattā in the form of a male monk for the final exchange with the king,
the Chinese has her transforming back again into her female form, confusing
her father: “I do not [know how to] see you as you physically appear,
because I just saw you as a monk, before seeing you now as a maiden
again.” Such discrepancies may reflect different Sanskrit source
texts.

Aśokadattā’s Prophecy was translated
into Tibetan by the Indian preceptors Jinamitra and Surendrabodhi, along
with the senior editor and translator Bandé Yeshé Dé, indicating a
translation made from Sanskrit during the height the Tibetan imperial
sponsorship of Buddhism in the late eighth or early ninth century ce. This dating is supported by the title’s
listing in both the Phangthangma and
Denkarma imperial catalogs of translated texts.

This is the first English translation of the Tibetan to be
published. It is based on the Tibetan text as found in the Degé Kangyur, in
consultation with the Stok Palace Kangyur and the variants listed in the
Comparative Edition (dpe bsdur ma).
Where variant readings have been preferred, this has been recorded in the
notes.

The Translation

The Noble Mahāyāna Sūtra

Aśokadattā’s Prophecy

Homage to all buddhas and bodhisattvas.

Thus did I hear at one time. The Bhagavān was dwelling in Rājagṛha
at Vulture Peak together with a great monastic assembly of five hundred
monks. Also in attendance were eight thousand bodhisattvas, all of whom had
obtained dhāraṇī; whose confidence was unimpeded; who were expert in
supernormal powers; who in the tradition of the profound Dharma dwelt in
emptiness, signlessness, and wishlessness and in the unperceived Dharma; who
taught the Dharma without engaging with the world; and who had reached
acceptance of the unborn nature of phenomena. These eight thousand
bodhisattvas who had gathered there included the bodhisattva Meru, the
bodhisattva Mahāmeru, the bodhisattva Jñānameru, the bodhisattva Ratnasiṃha,
the
bodhisattva Siṃhamati, the bodhisattva Nityotkṣiptahasta, the bodhisattva
Perpetually Raised Hand, the bodhisattva Nityodyukta, the bodhisattva Always
Smiling and Joyful, the bodhisattva Beyond the Senses, the bodhisattva
Nityotkaṇṭhita, the bodhisattva Precious
Mind, the bodhisattva Ratnapāṇi, the bodhisattva Holding a Jewel
in Hand, the bodhisattva Radiant Jewel, the bodhisattva Sārathi, the
bodhisattva Mahāsārathi, the bodhisattva Delights in Truth, the bodhisattva
Maitreya, and the bodhisattva Mañjuśrīkumārabhūta, as well as the eight holy
beings—the bodhisattva Bhadrapāla, the bodhisattva Ratnākara, the
bodhisattva Guhyagupta, the bodhisattva Indradeva, the bodhisattva
Varuṇadeva, the bodhisattva Viśālamati, the bodhisattva Viśeṣamati, and the
bodhisattva Vardhamānamati.

At that time, while the Bhagavān was staying at the great city of
Rājagṛha, he was honored, revered, venerated, and worshiped by King
Ajātaśatru along with his counselors, ministers, chancellors, ministerial
kinsmen,
officials, and courtiers, as well as by brahmins, kṣatriyas, and
householders. Surrounded and venerated by a retinue of hundreds and
thousands, the Bhagavān taught the attendees the Dharma. He taught the Dharma of holy
living, wholesome in the beginning, in the middle, and in the end, excellent
in meaning, beautiful in expression, unadulterated, complete, pristine, and
pure.

One morning, many great śrāvakas—Venerable Śāradvatīputra, Venerable
Mahāmaudgalyāyana, Venerable Mahākāśyapa, Venerable Subhūti, Venerable
Pūrṇamaitrāyaṇīputra, Venerable Aśvajit, Venerable Upāli, Venerable Rāhula,
Venerable Revata, Venerable Ānanda, Venerable Aniruddha, and others—came
into the great city of Rājagṛha to collect alms, all wearing their inner and
outer Dharma robes and carrying alms bowls. Those great śrāvakas went
progressively through the great city of Rājagṛha seeking alms and eventually
reached the palace of King Ajātaśatru. Upon arrival, they waited silently to
one side.

At that time, the daughter named Aśokadattā was at King Ajātaśatru’s
palace. Her body was excellent like that of a twelve-year-old girl,
beautiful, pleasant to behold, and with a clear complexion and full figure.
She had done great deeds for victors of the past, developed roots of virtue,
revered many hundreds and thousands of buddhas, and reached irreversibility
on the path to unsurpassable awakening. She was seated upon a gold-legged
throne in her father’s palace.

When the girl Aśokadattā saw the great śrāvakas, she neither stood
up from her seat nor went to welcome them. She stayed silently where she
was, making no gesture of greeting, not uttering a word, preparing no seats,
and offering no alms.

When King Ajātaśatru was informed that the great śrāvakas had
arrived, he came to the forecourt of the palace where they were. Since he
held the great śrāvakas in the highest esteem, he was delighted to see them,
and he had seats prepared for them. When he saw his daughter Aśokadattā
sitting silently, just looking at them, King Ajātaśatru said to her,
“Daughter, these are the great śrāvakas of the bhagavān, the tathāgata, the
arhat, the truly awakened Buddha Śākyamuni. They possess the qualities of
greatness, they have exhausted their defilements, they have done what needs
to be done, they have completed their work, they have laid down their
burdens and attained their goal, they have completely exhausted the bonds to
existence, they have liberated their minds through correct understanding,
they have become fields of merit, and they are compassionate. Do you not
understand that they seek alms out of compassion for the world? Why is it
that, when you see them, you do not rise immediately from your seat, and you
neither welcome them nor pay homage to them, talk to them, invite them to
sit, or offer them alms? Why do you show them disrespect by sitting there
silently, bereft of faith and devotion? What is the meaning of your
gaze?”

The girl Aśokadattā responded to her father King Ajātaśatru by
asking, “Father, consider this—have you ever heard of or seen a universal
monarch standing up for or coming to welcome a vassal king?”

“No, my daughter,” answered the king.

The girl asked, “Does Śakra, the lord of gods, stand up for or come
to welcome other gods?”

“No, my daughter,” answered the king.

The girl asked, “Father, does Brahmā, the lord of the Sahā world,
stand up for or come to welcome other gods?”

“No, my daughter,” answered the king.

The girl asked, “Father, have you ever heard of or seen the great
ocean paying homage to lakes, ponds, springs, small lakes, pools, and
wells?”

“No, my daughter,” answered the king.

The girl asked, “Father, have you ever heard of or seen Sumeru, the
king of mountains, bowing or paying homage to the other Black Mountains?”

“No, my daughter,” answered the king.

She asked, “Father, have you ever heard of or seen the sun, the
moon, and the stars wishing they had the light of fireflies?”

“No, my daughter,” answered the king.

She asked, “Father, have you ever heard of or seen a lion, the king
of beasts, standing up for or coming to welcome a jackal?”

“No, my daughter,” answered the king.

She asked, “Father, in the same way, who, once they have already
generated the mind set upon unsurpassable, truly complete awakening and
proclaimed the lion’s roar of great loving-kindness and great compassion,
would have admiration for jackal-like śrāvakas, who are inclined toward the
inferior and who lack great loving-kindness and great compassion? Who would
stand up for them, come to welcome them, pay homage to them, or honor them?
Father, what great Dharma king who has already turned the unsurpassable
wheel of Dharma, or who is now turning it, would happily pay homage or bow
down to inferior śrāvakas, who are lowly, weak, cowardly, and have limited
understanding? Father, what lord of gods, such as Indra, when striving to be
a perfect lord of gods, would aspire to the state of, pay homage to, stand
up for, or come to welcome śrāvakas, who are like lesser gods? Father, what
lord of the Sahā world, such as Brahmā, when striving for Brahmā’s supreme
reception hall in this world system, would aspire to
the state of, stand up for, come to welcome, or pay homage to śrāvakas, who
are like brahmās with lesser roots of virtue? Father, who, when seeking
realization in the Dharma that is equal to the unequaled, the immeasurable
ocean of gnosis, would aspire to the state of, stand up for, come to
welcome, or pay homage to śrāvakas, who follow a moral discipline that is
like the water left in a cow’s hoofprint? Father, who, when striving for the
form of a tathāgata whose meditative concentration is like Sumeru and who is
liberated, would stand up for, come to welcome, pay homage to, bow to, or
desire the state of a śrāvaka, whose power of meditative stability is like
that of a mustard seed? Father, who, when they have heard of the greatness
of the bhagavān buddhas—their wisdom, merit, gnosis, and qualities, which
are like the immeasurable light of the sun and the moon—would want the
liberation of a śrāvaka, whose luminosity of mind is as feeble as the light
of a firefly and who follows the words of others? I do not pay homage to
śrāvakas, even after tathāgatas have already passed into parinirvāṇa, not to
mention while they are still present. Why? Because who would relinquish the
sun and the moon to pay homage to fireflies? Father, if one relies on
śrāvakas, one will remain with the mentality of a śrāvaka. But if one relies
on completely perfect awakening, one will develop and gain the precious mind
of omniscience.”

Thereupon King Ajātaśatru said to his daughter Aśokadattā, “So this
is why, when you see these śrāvakas, you do not stand up, do not come to
welcome them, do not pay homage, do not pay your respects, and do not invite
them to be seated or receive alms. Daughter, you are exceptionally
conceited!”

The girl Aśokadattā replied to her father, King Ajātaśatru, “Father,
I am not exceptionally conceited. Father, you neither stand up for nor go
out to welcome the poor of this city. You do not prepare seats for them. So,
you must consider yourself exceptionally conceited too.”

“Daughter, they are not my equals,” replied the king.

“In the same way, father,” she replied, “a bodhisattva, from the
moment their mind is first set on awakening, is without equal among all
śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas.”

The king asked, “Daughter, do bodhisattvas not abandon
conceit and arrogance, and bow and pay homage to all sentient beings?”

“Father,” she replied, “bodhisattvas do indeed bow and pay homage to
all sentient beings, in order to abandon enmity, rigidity, anger, harmful
intent, and faults and to ripen the roots of virtue. But, father, these
great śrāvakas have not purified themselves of enmity, rigidity, anger,
harmful intent, and faults—they have not abandoned them, nor have they
cultivated virtue. Father, though all śrāvakas have been taught the Dharma
of the śrāvakas by a hundred thousand buddhas, no matter how many times they
are taught moral discipline, meditative stability, and wisdom, still,
father, where is their moral discipline? Where is their meditative
stability? Where is their wisdom? Where is their liberation? Where is their
knowledge and seeing of liberation? As an analogy, father, they are like pots
already filled with water that cannot accept or retain a single drop more
when it rains. In the same way, father, even when a hundred thousand buddhas
teach śrāvakas the Dharma they cannot grasp it. They neither retain nor
increase their moral discipline, meditative stability, wisdom, liberation,
or knowledge and seeing of liberation.

“On the other hand, father, by the same analogy, the vast ocean
catches and retains the water of all rivers and all rain-flow. Why? Because
the vast ocean is immeasurable. Father, bodhisattva mahāsattvas are like the
ocean. They can likewise hold all the water of Dharma teachings and
perfectly retain all Dharma teachings. Why? Because the vessel that is the mind of
omniscience of the bodhisattva mahāsattvas is equal to the unequaled.”

About that, this is said:

When five hundred śrāvakas approached,

Aśokadattā, the daughter of Ajātaśatru,

Radiant with good qualities,

Did not rise to greet them.

Ajātaśatru said to her,

“Daughter, listen to my words!

When you see five hundred śrāvakas,

Why do you not stand to greet them?”

The girl Aśokadattā replied,

“When I saw these śrāvakas,

Why had I no thought to pay them homage?

Pray listen, father, to what I have to say.

“Take, for example, a person who goes to the ocean

And from that source of precious jewels takes only trinkets.

I consider all śrāvakas to be just like that,

Accepting only the śrāvakas’ doctrine from the expanse of gnosis.

“Take, for example, someone who has pleased a king,

A lord of wealth, a lord of the earth, a universal monarch,

But in return asks for just one kārṣāpaṇa coin—

Their service to that king has been pointless.

“But when someone has pleased a universal monarch

And asks for ten billion,

And with it makes the poor wealthy—

Such a person has served that king well.

“I consider all śrāvakas,

Who have heard of the limitless good qualities of buddhahood

Yet still aspire to the lesser vehicle,

As being like the person who asks for just one kārṣāpaṇa coin,

“While learned bodhisattvas

Are like the person who achieves great wealth

By pleasing a victorious Dharma king.

Having touched awakening, they train sentient beings.

“Just as, to give an analogy, a sick person tormented by a hundred
ailments

Is released from their condition by a physician,

So, too, are all śrāvakas, who follow others’ instructions and are
tormented by afflictions,

Released by bodhisattvas, who are like physicians.

“Who, when curing many beings by prescribing medicine,

Bows to those beings they treat?

Similarly, who, when striving to be a perfectly awakened physician,

Bows to the śrāvakas they treat?

“Likewise, just as a physician cannot treat

Every sick person there is to be treated,

So, too, are physician buddhas unable to treat

Every śrāvaka who is to be treated.

“But physicians who think only

Of treating themselves and no other sentient beings—

Such conceited, selfish, and arrogant physicians

Will not generate the necessary intention for awakening,

“While a physician who develops compassion

And treats others’ illnesses as they would their own

Is a physician worthy of honor and praise

And is revered by all the world,

“Those preeminent in the realization of knowledge and awareness

Who liberate only themselves and no other sentient beings

Are like physicians who treat only themselves.

They are not esteemed by the learned.

“Those preeminent in the realization of knowledge and awareness

Who liberate countless sentient beings from suffering

Are those who have the aspiration to supreme awakening.

They are praised by all the world.

“The stem of the castor-oil plant is not beautiful,

And the shade it casts is not wide.

All śrāvakas are like the castor-oil plant,

And the liberating shade they offer is not valued.

“Great trunks of the best sandalwood trees

Are valued by those tormented by heat.

This is how I consider bodhisattvas,

Who benefit all the world, including its gods.

“The water left in a cow’s hoofprint is meager.

It offers no respite from the torments of heat,

While the Ganges River satisfies ten billion beings

And then flows to the great ocean.

“All śrāvakas are like the water in a cow’s hoofprint—

They cannot relieve the heat that torments beings.

Bodhisattvas are like the Ganges River—

They satisfy limitless beings with Dharma.

“When a rain of precious things falls,

The poor are those who collect only cowrie shells,

While those who collect many gems

Make the poor wealthy.

“Likewise, when the buddhas make fall a rain of precious Dharma,

Śrāvakas are those who take only a little from the precious, holy
Dharma,

While bodhisattvas, for the sake of sentient beings,

Take a lot.

“When sentient beings come before Mount Sumeru,

They assume a golden hue.

When they come before other mountains,

They do not assume a golden hue.

“Bodhisattvas are like Mount Sumeru—

By their power, the single hue of liberation

Spreads over living kind, including gods.

The same cannot be claimed for the gnosis of śrāvakas.

“Father, a dewdrop on the tip of a wet blade of grass

Is not enough to make crops grow.

Yet, a blanket of clouds covering the land

Will satisfy the earth and make crops multiply.

“All śrāvakas are like dewdrops,

While bodhisattvas are like the blanket of clouds.

Actualizing compassion, they bring relief to the trichiliocosm

With a rain of holy Dharma for those who rely on them.

“The oleander flower has not the best of scents

And so is not favored by man or woman.

The magnolia flower has a pleasing scent,

As do the blue lotus and jasmine.

“Śrāvakas are like the scent of oleander.

None are pleased by what they understand,

While both gods and humans are enraptured

By a bodhisattva’s scent of omniscience.

“What awe can there be for those who go it alone?

The truly marvelous are those who guide limitless beings.

Śrāvakas are like those who travel alone,

While bodhisattvas are like captains.

“There are travelers who seek provisions from others

And those who give hospitality to all.

Śrāvakas, who follow the advice of others, are all like the former,

While bodhisattvas are like those who host everyone.

“With only a small boat,

One cannot rescue others from a great body of water.

But coming in a sturdy ship,

One can rescue many millions of beings.

“Śrāvakas are like those who rely on a small boat,

So how can they save other beings?

Bodhisattvas come in the ship of perfect awakening

And save beings from the ocean of suffering.

“One cannot gain victory over enemies

Riding a donkey into battle.

By riding elephants, horses, and chariots

One can defeat enemies in battle.

“Śrāvakas are like those who ride donkeys,

While bodhisattvas, who ride elephants,

Will be victorious over the demons before the Bodhi tree,

For the benefit and happiness of all beings.

“Though stars fill the sky,

They do not make the night beautiful.

But when the moon’s light fills the heavens,

It beautifies the night like a bindi for the sky.

“Dear father, these śrāvakas are like the stars,

Whereas, king, a bodhisattva is like the moon,

Shining brilliant gnosis upon living kind

In order to heal all sentient beings.

“Dear father, one can accomplish little

By the light of a swarm of fireflies.

But with the light of the sun in Jambudvīpa,

One can complete hundreds of various deeds.

“Śrāvakas are like fireflies—

The brilliance of their intellect is barely perceptible.

Buddhas are like the sun of liberation—

Their wisdom and gnosis liberate sentient beings.

“Dear father, though hundreds of jackals may howl,

The herds of wild animals are unperturbed.

But when a lion roars, elephants, beasts, and birds alike

Flee in all directions.

“Dear father, see that the śrāvakas are like jackals.

Their words scare not the demons,

But demons and their kind are terrified

When a king conducts himself as a bodhisattva.

“Dear father, for these reasons,

I could not aspire to those of the lesser vehicle.

Who, after forsaking unsurpassable awakening,

Would aspire to the lesser vehicle?

“Those who have completely forsaken supreme awakening

And yet aspire to the lesser vehicle

Make an evil living and have not profited—

They have wasted their human birth.

“Those who, for the sake of healing the world with its gods,

Aspire to supreme awakening

Make a worthy living and achieve greatness—

They fulfil the purpose of this human birth.

“Those who, with body, speech, and mind,

Are resolved in thought and deed to heal the world,

Who always strive to heal sentient beings,

Are like an uḍumbara flower.”

On hearing these verses taught by his daughter Aśokadattā, King
Ajātaśatru was speechless. Venerable Śāriputra thought to himself, “Well!
This girl has achieved unimpeded eloquence, but I should ascertain whether
or not she has achieved patience.”

So Venerable Śāriputra asked Aśokadattā, “Girl, have you truly
practiced the Śrāvaka Vehicle, or do you not claim to have done so? Have you
truly engaged in the Pratyekabuddha Vehicle, or do you not claim to have
done so? Girl, what is your purpose? What do you seek in making such a
lion’s roar?”

“Reverend Śāriputra,” she replied, “if I were striving for the sake
of some dharma, then I would not make a lion’s roar, but since, Reverend
Śāriputra, I am not striving for the sake of any dharma, that is why I have
made this lion’s roar. Furthermore, Reverend Śāriputra, you asked me,
‘girl, have you truly practiced the śrāvaka’s vehicle?’ Well, is the dharma
realized by the reverend Śāriputra classified as the vehicle known as that
of the śrāvakas, the pratyekabuddhas, or the truly complete buddhas?”

“Girl,” replied the elder Śāriputra, “in those dharmas there is no
classification into vehicles. Dharma has only one characteristic: that it
lacks any such characteristics.”

The girl asked, “Reverend Śāriputra, what is the purpose sought in
this dharma without characteristics?”

“Girl,” replied Śāriputra, “no purpose whatsoever is sought in
Dharma.”

The elder Śāriputra then further questioned Aśokadattā: “Girl, what
distinguishes the dharmas of a buddha and the dharmas of an
ordinary person? What are the differences between the two?”

“Reverend Śāriputra,” replied the girl, “what distinguishes
emptiness and voidness? What are the differences between the two?”

“There is no distinction or difference between them,” answered
Śāriputra.

“Reverend Śāriputra,” the girl continued, “just as there is no
distinction or difference between emptiness and voidness, so, too, Reverend
Śāriputra, is there no distinction or difference whatsoever between the
dharmas of a buddha and the dharmas of an ordinary person. Just as, Reverend
Śāriputra, there is no distinction or difference between, for example, the
sky and open space, so, too, Reverend Śāriputra, is there no distinction or
difference between the dharmas of a buddha and the dharmas of an ordinary
person.”

To this the elder Śāriputra made no reply.

Then Venerable Mahāmaudgalyāyana asked the girl Aśokadattā, “Girl,
from what you have said, you consider the dharmas of the Buddha to be vastly
superior, and you consider the dharmas of the śrāvakas to be vastly
inferior. Is this why, when you see great śrāvakas, you do not stand up for
them, or pay homage to them, or come to welcome them, or speak to them, or
invite them to sit and receive alms?”

The girl Aśokadattā replied to the elder Mahāmaudgalyāyana,
“Reverend Mahāmaudgalyāyana, do you know how many stars there are in this
world system of the great trichiliocosm?”

“Girl,” replied Mahāmaudgalyāyana, “were I immersed in meditative
absorption, I could count them. But when I am not immersed in meditative
absorption, I do not know.”

“Reverend Mahāmaudgalyāyana,” said the girl, “in just an instant of
meditative equipoise, a tathāgata knows every thought of every sentient
being of the past, present, and future, throughout the great trichiliocosm
of world systems as numerous as the grains of sand of the Ganges River—not
to mention the mere number of sentient beings included in just a single
world system of the trichiliocosm. Reverend Mahāmaudgalyāyana, this is what
distinguishes the Tathāgata from the śrāvakas—this is what differentiates
them. Reverend Mahāmaudgalyāyana, do you know how many buddhafields have
been destroyed and formed in the worlds of the ten directions?”

“No, girl, I do not know,” replied Maudgalyāyana.

The girl asked further, “Reverend Mahāmaudgalyāyana, do you know
how many bhagavān buddhas there have been in the past, how many there will
be in the future, and how many there are now?”

“No, girl, I do not know,” replied Maudgalyāyana.

The girl asked further, “Reverend Mahāmaudgalyāyana, do you know
how many beings conduct themselves with attachment, how many with aversion,
how many with ignorance, and how many with all three equally?”

“No, girl, I do not know,” replied Maudgalyāyana.

The girl asked, “Reverend Mahāmaudgalyāyana, do you know how many
beings there are who follow the Śrāvaka Vehicle, how many who follow the
Pratyekabuddha Vehicle, and how many who are truly engaged in the Great
Vehicle?”

“No, girl, I do not know,” replied Maudgalyāyana.

The girl asked, “Reverend Mahāmaudgalyāyana, do you know how many
beings there are who have been trained by śrāvakas, how many who have been
trained by pratyekabuddhas, and how many who have been trained by
buddhas?”

“No, girl, I do not know,” replied Maudgalyāyana.

The girl asked, “Reverend Mahāmaudgalyāyana, do you know how many
beings there are who make correct determinations, how many who make false
determinations, and how many who make no determinations at all?”

“No, girl, I do not know,” replied Maudgalyāyana.

“Reverend Mahāmaudgalyāyana,” said the girl, “when the Tathāgata
thoroughly knows this and all the other foregoing points that śrāvakas and
pratyekabuddhas do not, what need is there to mention other sentient beings?
Reverend Mahāmaudgalyāyana, this is the distinct superiority of the
Tathāgata.

“Furthermore, Reverend Mahāmaudgalyāyana, since the Tathāgata has
taught that you are the greatest among those who possess magical powers,
Reverend Mahāmaudgalyāyana, go to the world system called Gandhaprabhāsa,
where the tathāgata, the arhat, the truly complete buddha called
Incense-Emitting Light dwells and accepts a livelihood teaching the Dharma
to bodhisattvas, a buddhafield in which the scent of uragasāra sandalwood
incense comes from every tree, and where fragrant incense pervades the
entire buddhafield.”

“Girl,” replied the elder Mahāmaudgalyāyana, “I have only just now
heard the name of that buddhafield. How can I go there to see that buddha
and listen to his dharma?”

Without rising from her throne, the girl Aśokadattā said, “I
declare with truth and true words that a bodhisattva mahāsattva, as soon as
the mind of awakening is cultivated for the first time, outshines all
śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas in brilliance. So, by this truth and these true
words, may the Tathāgata Incense-Emitting Light reveal himself and his
buddhafield to these great śrāvakas! May these great śrāvakas experience its
scents of sandalwood!”

The moment the girl Aśokadattā uttered these words, by the power of
their truth, at that very instance, there radiated from the body of the
bhagavān Tathāgata Incense-Emitting Light such light that the great śrāvakas
were able to see the Gandhaprabhāsa world, with the tathāgata, arhat, truly
complete Buddha Incense-Emitting Light seated there teaching the Dharma, and
by the power of the Buddha, his Dharma teaching could even be heard in this
world, while the scent of uragasāra sandalwood pervaded this entire Sahā
world system.

With speech endowed with the sixty melodious aspects, the Tathāgata
Incense-Emitting Light then said, “Just as the girl Aśokadattā has said, as
soon as a bodhisattva mahāsattva cultivates the mind of awakening for the
first time, they outshine all śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas in
brilliance.”

When the bodhisattva mahāsattva Maitreya, who was staying at
Vulture Peak, sensed the perfume of uragasāra sandalwood, he asked the
Bhagavān, “Bhagavān, where is this scent of uragasāra sandalwood coming
from?”

The Bhagavān replied to the bodhisattva Maitreya, “Maitreya, the
girl Aśokadattā has proclaimed a lion’s roar in front of the great śrāvakas.
By the power of its truth, she has revealed to the great śrāvakas the
Tathāgata Incense-Emitting Light, who lives in the world called
Gandhaprabhāsa, teaching the Dharma to bodhisattva mahāsattvas. It is the
scent of uragasāra sandalwood from the Gandhaprabhāsa world that now
pervades this world as well.”

The girl Aśokadattā then asked Venerable Mahāmaudgalyāyana,
“Reverend Mahāmaudgalyāyana, who among the wise, when they have seen or
heard the marvelous inconceivable magical displays and emanations of
bodhisattva mahāsattvas, would still stand up for, come to welcome, or pay
homage to inferior śrāvakas, who are weak and timid and whose understanding
is limited? Reverend Mahāmaudgalyāyana, do you know how far away the
Gandhaprabhāsa world is?”

“No, girl, I do not,” replied Maudgalyāyana.

“Reverend Mahāmaudgalyāyana,” continued the girl, “if this world
system of the trichiliocosm were, like an endless field, to be filled with
sugarcane, or bamboo, or reeds, or rice, then even for a magically-endowed
being like you it would take an eon to count the number of plants. However,
you would never be able to calculate how many buddhafields lie between here
and the Gandhaprabhāsa world.”

Then the bhagavān Tathāgata Incense-Emitting Light made the light
disappear, and he made the buddhafield disappear too.

Venerable Mahākāśyapa then asked the girl Aśokadattā, “Girl, have
you ever seen the bhagavān, the tathāgata, the arhat, the truly complete
Buddha Śākyamuni?”

“Reverend Mahākāśyapa,” responded the girl, “can one see a
tathāgata? Has the Tathāgata not said:

“ ‘Whoever sees me as form,

And whoever knows me as words,

Has turned away from the path and abandoned it.

Such people do not see me.

“ ‘Consider buddhas as the true nature

And guides as bodies of reality.

Since the true nature is not knowable,

They cannot be cognized.’

“Moreover, Reverend Mahākāśyapa, you asked, ‘Girl, have you ever
seen the bhagavān, the tathāgata, the arhat, the perfectly awakened Buddha
Śākyamuni?’ Reverend Mahākāśyapa, indeed I have seen the Tathāgata, but not
with the flesh eye, not as form; not with the divine eye, not as feeling;
not with the wisdom eye, not as perception; not with the Dharma eye, not as
mental formation; and not with the buddha eye, not as consciousness.
Instead, Reverend Mahākāśyapa, I have seen the Tathāgata in the same way
that, for example, an elder sees ignorance and craving for existence.
Reverend Mahākāśyapa, I see the Tathāgata in the same way that, for example,
an elder sees grasping onto the self as ‘I,’ and onto phenomena as ‘mine.’
”

“Girl,” responded the elder Mahākāśyapa, “ignorance, craving for
existence, and both the phenomena of grasping as ‘I’ and grasping as ‘mine’
do not exist, and it is impossible to see nonexisting phenomena.”

The girl Aśokadattā replied, “Indeed, Reverend Mahākāśyapa, this is
the case. Since all dharmas are nonexistent, they cannot be seen.”

“So, girl,” said Mahākāśyapa, “does the dharma of the Buddha
also not exist?”

The girl replied, “Elder, regardless of whether you are asking
about the dharmas of the Buddha or those of ordinary people, would you
assert there are any dharmas that are completely real?”

“Girl, I do not assert that any dharmas of ordinary beings are
completely real, let alone those of the Buddha,” said Mahākāśyapa.

The girl asked, “Reverend Mahākāśyapa, do those dharmas that are
not completely real exist or not?”

“Girl, those that are not do not exist,” said Mahākāśyapa.

The girl said, “So, Reverend Mahākāśyapa, all dharmas are
nonexistence. There is no need to purify the vision of that which does not
exist. So, Reverend Mahākāśyapa, any noble son or daughter who wishes to
purify their view of the Buddha should purify their view of the self.”

Mahākāśyapa asked, “Girl, how can one purify the view of the self?”

“Reverend Mahākāśyapa,” replied the girl, “when one is convinced
that because the self has no inherent existence all phenomena have no
inherent existence, then simply with that, the view of the self has been
purified.”

Mahākāśyapa asked, “Girl, what is the inherent nature of the self?”

“Reverend Mahākāśyapa,” said the girl, “the inherent nature of the
self is emptiness. Because the self has no inherent nature, the self is also
void. By being without inherent nature, the self is void. By being without
inherent nature, all phenomena are void.”

Mahākāśyapa asked, “Girl, from whom did you learn the Dharma, such
that your view is so perfect? Girl, it is said that two causes or two
conditions can lead to the arising of a perfect view: it can arise from the
words of another, or it can arise from one’s own manner of mental
application.”

“Reverend Mahākāśyapa,” replied the girl, “those wise ones who rely
on others gain a
perfect view from ordinary understanding according to both the teachings of
others and their own practice, but, Reverend Mahākāśyapa, those wise ones
who do not rely on others do not seek out others’ teachings.

“Reverend Mahākāśyapa, how does a monk properly engage in his
practice?”

“Girl,” replied Mahākāśyapa, “whenever a monk closely attends to
the meaning of the teachings he has heard, he properly engages in his
practice.”

Then Mahākāśyapa asked, “Girl, how do bodhisattvas properly engage
in their practice?”

“Reverend Mahākāśyapa,” the girl answered, “when bodhisattvas, even
while living among all sentient beings, do not impute them as sentient
beings, they are properly engaging in their practice. Reverend Mahākāśyapa,
‘to engage’ suggests that all phenomena have an essential beginning, that
all phenomena have an essential end, and that all phenomena have an
essential present. But, Reverend Mahākāśyapa, when bodhisattvas do not make
such attributions, merely by that, they properly engage in bodhisattva
practice.”

Mahākāśyapa asked, “Girl, how does one make
any attribution about phenomena?”

“Reverend Mahākāśyapa,” replied the girl, “one may make
attributions about all phenomena while seeing their essence as neither
containing attributions nor free of attribution.”

Mahākāśyapa asked, “Girl, so how does one see all phenomena?”

“Reverend Mahākāśyapa,” replied the girl, “when one sees all
phenomena as nondual, uncreated, and undestroyed, then one sees all
phenomena. Reverend Mahākāśyapa, ‘seeing’ is a verbal designation for not
seeing.”

Mahākāśyapa asked, “Girl, how should one regard the self?”

“Reverend Mahākāśyapa,” the girl answered, “one should regard it as
one sees it.”

Mahākāśyapa said, “Girl, I have not seen the self nor anything
belonging to it.”

“Reverend Mahākāśyapa,” said the girl, “one should regard all
phenomena in the same way, as being without self and anything belonging to
it.”

In the midst of this discourse, the elder Subhūti interjected,
saying to the girl Aśokadattā, “Girl, such eloquence is well found!”

“Reverend Subhūti,” replied the girl Aśokadattā, “the ability to
speak with confidence does not come from finding anything. The one who has
found nothing has confidence. The one who apprehends nothing, neither
internally nor externally, has confidence.”

Subhūti asked, “Girl, if one has found nothing, how can one have
confidence?”

“Reverend Subhūti,” the girl answered, “when one does not find the
self, nor the other, nor virtue, nor nonvirtue, nor that which is faulty,
nor that which is unfaulty, nor that which is contaminated, nor that which
uncontaminated, nor that which is compounded, nor that which is
uncompounded, nor that which is worldly, nor that which is beyond the world,
nor affliction, nor purification, nor saṃsāra, nor nirvāṇa, and when one
does not apprehend the qualities of ordinary beings, nor those of noble
beings, nor even those of the Buddha, then, Reverend Subhūti, such a person,
who has found nothing, will have confidence.”

Subhūti further asked, “How will they be confident?”

“Just as Reverend Subhūti finds no phenomena, so, too, does one
become confident,” the girl replied. “Can one speak of, or express, any
essential nature of the Dharma, taught as supreme, of the elders who are
free of afflictions? Is there anything at all about which to speak with
confidence concerning the absence of mental afflictions and the essential
nature of the Dharma?”

“Neither the absence of mental afflictions nor an essential nature
can be taught or expressed,” answered Subhūti.

“So, Reverend Subhūti,” said the girl, “if all phenomena are
inexpressible, why did you say, ‘Girl, this eloquence you have found is well
found!’ ”

“Girl, the confidence with which you teach is not like this,”
answered Subhūti.

The girl asked, “Elder Subhūti, do you believe that all phenomena
are like echoes?”

“Yes, girl, I do,” said Subhūti.

The girl asked, “Elder Subhūti, is there anything one can say with
confidence about echoes?”

“No, girl, there is not,” said Subhūti. “Echoes are just sounds
that arise from a collection of causes and conditions.”

The girl continued: “Reverend Subhūti, any sound that arises
dependently has no inherent nature whatsoever. Why? Because whatever arises
dependently has no point of origin.”

“Girl, all phenomena arise dependently,” said Subhūti.

“So indeed, Reverend Subhūti,” the girl replied, “are all phenomena
inherently unproduced— they do not originate from their own nature.”

Subhūti asked, “Girl, if all phenomena are inherently unproduced,
why has the Bhagavān taught that tathāgatas as numerous as the grains of
sand along the river Ganges have already gone, that tathāgatas as numerous
as the grains of sand along the river Ganges are still to come, and that
tathāgatas as numerous as the grains of sand along the river Ganges are
currently living?”

“Reverend Subhūti,” she replied, “it cannot be asserted that in the
expanse of phenomena there is anything that is produced or that disappears.”

“Girl, that nothing is produced is a teaching on ultimate truth,”
said Subhūti.

“Reverend Subhūti, teachings are no teachings.” said the girl. “If
one asks why teachings are no teachings, it is because whether they are fit
to be taught or not, they are not real, and do not reject the extremes of
the unreal and the inexpressible.”

“Girl, it is indeed marvelous that as a layperson you are so
immersed in the Dharma and can teach it with such purity!” exclaimed
Subhūti.

“Reverend Subhūti,” the girl replied, “a bodhisattva mahāsattva
should not be regarded as a layperson or a monastic. Why? Because they are
distinguished by their intention, by their wisdom, and by their gnosis.
Reverend Subhūti, do you know what it is like to be a bodhisattva?”

Subhūti replied, “Girl, you explain and I will listen.”

The girl continued: “Reverend Subhūti, if a bodhisattva mahāsattva
possesses eight qualities, whether they are a householder or a monastic is
inconsequential. Whatever code of conduct they observe and live by, there is
no fault either way. What are the eight? Reverend Subhūti, they are as
follows: (1) Bodhisattva mahāsattvas perfect the highest intention, the
intention to achieve unsurpassable, truly complete awakening. (2) Never
giving up on sentient beings, they maintain loving kindness. (3) Being
without worldly pleasures and activities, they maintain great compassion.
(4) Relinquishing concern for their own body and life, they maintain
equanimity. (5) Perfecting the skill of inspiring devotion, they are
skillful in means. (6) Being free of all views, they have traversed the
perfection of wisdom. (7) Not being content with enthusiasm for seeking out
roots of virtue, they engage in real diligence. (8) Having achieved real
patience, they understand that which has not been taught before. Reverend
Subhūti, if a bodhisattva mahāsattva possesses these eight qualities,
whether they are a householder or a monastic is inconsequential. Whatever
code of conduct they observe and live by, there is no fault.”

Thereupon Venerable Rāhula said to the girl Aśokadattā, “Girl, it
not appropriate for you to converse with great śrāvakas in this manner while
sitting on a high throne with golden legs. Have you not learnt that the
Dharma should not be taught while seated on a low seat to a girl who is not
sick seated on a high seat?”

Hearing this, the girl Aśokadattā replied to Venerable Rāhula,
“Reverend Rāhula, do you know what in this world is appropriate and what is
not?”

“Yes, girl, I do!” said Rāhula. “It is said that training in the
precepts as they have been taught and not transgressing them is appropriate,
while transgressing the precepts is inappropriate.”

“Reverend Rāhula, let it go! Do not say that!” the girl Aśokadattā
exclaimed. “Reverend Rāhula, whatever trainings are undertaken in the
precepts are not appropriate. Why? Because they are contrived and
conceptual. Reverend Rāhula, that which is neither contrived nor conceptual
is that which should be called ‘appropriate.’ Reverend Rāhula,
appropriate
is a verbal designation for those monk-arhats who
have put an end to their defilements. They do not transgress the precepts.
Why? Because the śrāvakas of the Bhagavān have completely transcended the
precepts, and since they have no further need for precepts, they are
‘appropriate.’ They will never return to the three realms, they have truly
gone beyond training, and they are called ‘those with no more to learn.’ As
such, they do not apprehend the precepts, and they understand the phenomena
of the three realms to be mere designations. That is why they are called
‘appropriate.’ ”

Rāhula asked, “Girl, what is the difference between appropriate and
inappropriate?”

“Reverend Rāhula,” replied the girl, “what is the difference, for
example, between someone who adorns themselves with gold and silver and
someone who does not?”

“Girl, there is no difference,” Rāhula replied.

The girl continued: “Reverend Rāhula, in the same way, since
appropriate and inappropriate
are equally linguistic terms, there is no actual difference. Why? Because
all phenomena are without anything at all and are naturally without
affliction.

“Reverend Rāhula, you also asked whether one may listen to
teachings on the Dharma while sitting on high. Well, a bodhisattva, though
sitting on a straw mat, actually sits on high.”

Rāhula asked, “On the basis of what discourse do you say that?”

“Reverend Rāhula, what do you think?” the girl replied. “What was
the Bodhisattva sitting upon when he attained awakening?”

“He attained awakening while sitting on a mat of straw,” answered
Rāhula.

“Reverend Rāhula,” the girl continued, “while the Bodhisattva was
seated on a mat of straw, did Brahmā, Śakra, the world protectors, and all
the other gods right up to those in Akaniṣṭha Heaven in the great
trichiliocosm bow down to him with palms pressed together and prostrate at
his feet?”

“Yes indeed, girl, they did as you have described,” said Rāhula.

“Well, Reverend Rāhula,” said the girl, “one should understand
therefore that although a bodhisattva mahāsattva may sit on a straw mat,
they actually sit on high, while a śrāvaka, even when sitting atop Brahmā’s
world, does not.”

Then King Ajātaśatru said to the girl Aśokadattā, “Daughter, do you
not know that Reverend Rāhula is the son and heir of the Bhagavān Śākyamuni
himself, and foremost among those who aspire to his training?”

“Let it go, let it go, father!” exclaimed the girl Aśokadattā. “Do
not say that Reverend Rāhula is the Bhagavān Śākyamuni’s heir! Have you ever
heard of or seen a lion—the king of wild beasts, whose mane is like a
crown—who has fathered a jackal?”

“No, my daughter, I have not,” the king replied.

“Father,” the girl replied, “the Tathāgata moves with the prowess
of a lion. A śrāvaka is no more beautiful than a footservant to a universal
monarch who spreads the holy Dharma. Father, if one speaks truthfully about
who is the Tathāgata’s heir, it can only truly be said that his son and heir
is bodhisattvahood. Father, it is in seeking to commit themselves as heirs
of the Tathāgata that bodhisattvas cultivate the mind set on unsurpassable,
truly complete awakening.”

During this conversation, twenty ladies among King Ajātaśatru’s
court of queens were inspired and set their minds on unsurpassable, truly
complete awakening. A hundred gods, too, on hearing the girl’s lion’s roar,
were inspired, and setting their minds on unsurpassable, truly complete
awakening they declared, “We hereby pledge to be heirs of the buddha
bhagavāns of the past, the future, and the present.”

As offerings to the girl Aśokadattā, the gods then scattered divine
flowers across the entire city of Rājagṛha.

Then the girl Aśokadattā descended from her gold-legged throne,
prostrated at the feet of those śrāvakas, and honored them with many kinds
of food and drink to be savored, tasted, sipped, and enjoyed. With faith and
devotion, she satiated those great śrāvakas, serving them with her own
hands. She then said, “Reverend ones, let us go happily this afternoon to
listen to a Dharma teaching from the Bhagavān! Reverend ones, I would like
to go too.”

Surrounded by an entourage including her father and mother and by a
large crowd of people, the girl Aśokadattā went to where the Bhagavān was.
She
prostrated at the Bhagavān’s feet and sat to one side. The king and his
entourage of queens also prostrated at the Bhagavān’s feet and sat to one
side. The great śrāvakas, too, arriving at the side of the Bhagavān,
prostrated at his feet and sat to one side.

Then Venerable Śāriputra spoke these words to the Bhagavān:
“Bhagavān, this girl Aśokadattā’s confidence is extraordinary.”

“Śāriputra,” said the Bhagavān, “when this girl first aspired
toward awakening, she cultivated roots of virtue in the presence of
ninety-two quintillion buddhas.”

Śāriputra asked, “Why then did her female form not change,
Bhagavān?”

“Śāriputra, what are you thinking?” replied the Bhagavān. “If you
consider the girl Aśokadattā to be female, you should not see it that way.
In order to help sentient beings mature, bodhisattvas may reveal themselves
in the form of women as they wish.”

Then, invoking the power of truth, the girl Aśokadattā said, “By
the power of truth, all phenomena are neither male nor female. Seeing this,
by the power of that same truth and my true words, may I have a male body!
May all those assembled here also witness it!”

As soon as this was said, her female parts disappeared and male
parts appeared. Then, he rose up into to the sky, to the height of some
seven palm trees above the ground.

The Bhagavān then asked Venerable Śāriputra, “Śāriputra, do you see
how the bodhisattva mahāsattva Aśokadattā rises up into the sky above?”

“Yes, Bhagavān, I see it,” said Śāriputra.

The Bhagavān said, “Śāriputra, seven innumerable eons from now,
this bodhisattva mahāsattva Aśokadattā will become the tathāgata, arhat,
truly complete Buddha Aśoka in the world called Vimalaprabhā. He will live for one
hundred eons, and his holy Dharma will survive for a further ten eons. His
monastic assembly will consist of nothing but bodhisattvas, with three
hundred twenty million bodhisattva mahāsattvas who will never fall from the
path. His world will be made of beryl, arrayed splendidly and checkered with
the seven types of precious jewels, covered with lotuses, and free from all
forms of lower rebirth. There, there will be no distinction between the
luxuries enjoyed by gods and humans. Śāriputra, the luxuries enjoyed by
humans in that world will be the same as those of the gods in Tuṣita
Heaven.”

Then the mother of bodhisattva Aśokadattā, King Ajātaśatru’s main
queen called Moonlit, bowed to the Bhagavān with her palms joined and said,
“Bhagavān, I carried this holy being in my womb for nine months. Indeed, I
am very fortunate. Bhagavān, I, too, have the intention to achieve
unsurpassable, truly complete awakening. By this root of virtue, may I, too,
achieve unsurpassable, truly complete awakening under her guidance in the
world Vimalaprabhā!”

Then the Bhagavān said to Venerable Śāriputra, “Śāriputra, do you
see Queen Moonlit?”

“Yes, Bhagavān,” replied Śāriputra, “I see her.”

The Bhagavān said, “Śāriputra, when she dies and passes from here,
Queen Moonlit will be reborn as a god known as Supreme Jewel, equal in
fortune to the gods of Trayastriṃśa Heaven. He will be reborn as the son of
King Śaṅkha, called Prince Joyful to Behold, when the bodhisattva Maitreya
attains awakening. After making offerings to the Tathāgata Maitreya, he will
go forth as a renunciate. He will grasp the holy Dharma of the Tathāgata
Maitreya in its entirety—beginning, middle, and end—and he will delight in
making offerings to all the buddha bhagavāns who appear in this fortunate
eon. Eventually, he will be reborn again as the universal monarch Nimindhara
when the Tathāgata Aśoka attains awakening. After making immeasurable
offerings to that tathāgata, he will himself become the Tathāgata
Samantaraśmi and will completely awaken to unsurpassable, truly complete
awakening in that very same buddha field of Vimalaprabhā.”

On hearing this prophecy about herself, Queen Moonlit was satisfied
and very pleased. Joyfully, she offered her pearl necklace worth hundreds
and thousands to the Bhagavān, and being granted permission by the king to
practice celibacy, she received the fundamental precepts.

Then, as an offering to the Bhagavān and all those assembled there,
the bodhisattva mahāsattva Aśokadattā scattered the coral tree flowers that
had been offered by the gods. He then came down from the sky, sat to one
side, and said, “I see by the power of truth and my true words that when I
attain awakening all those bodhisattvas mahāsattvas will be spontaneously
born wearing saffron robes and sitting cross-legged on precious lotuses. And
by the power of truth and my true words, may I, too, be one who maintains the code
of conduct, such as a monk who has maintains the code of conduct for eight
years after ordination.”

As soon as the bodhisattva mahāsattva Aśokadattā made his
proclamation, by the power of truth he was transformed into a monk who
maintains the code of conduct.

Then the bodhisattva mahāsattva Aśokadattā said to his father, King
Ajātaśatru, “Father,
just so, all phenomena are contrivances. They exist when they are concocted
but cease when they are analyzed. Thus, are they like errors. O Great King,
behold! Today, within one day, you have seen me in both female and male
forms. Now that you see me in a monk’s form, which one is true? Great King,
in this way all vacuous phenomena are potentialities wrapped up in one’s
point of view. And so one is tormented by the mental afflictions in one’s
own mind. And being tormented in this way, one does not seek this Dharma and
Vinaya and regrets that which is not to be regretted. Therefore, Great King,
be vigilant! When the burdens of kingship mount, always come before the
Bhagavān! Mañjuśrīkumārabhūta will clear away your regrets, which arise from
your mistaken understanding confusing what does not exist for what does.
Great King, you may have much to do and much more to get done, so take your
leave!”

Then King Ajātaśatru, Queen Moonlit, and the entire court of queens
prostrated to the Bhagavān, the bodhisattva mahāsattva Aśokadattā, and the
assembly of monks. They said to the Bhagavān, “Bhagavān, we have much to do
and much more to get done. So we will take our leave.”

“Great King,” said the Bhagavān, “if you believe the time has come,
then go.”

And so King Ajātaśatru and Queen Moonlit, together with the entire
court of queens, left Vulture Peak for the great city of Rājagṛha.

Then the Bhagavān said to Venerable Ānanda, “Ānanda, memorize this
Dharma discourse! Maintain it, recite it, promulgate it, and teach it widely
to others!”

“Bhagavān, I will memorize this Dharma discourse,” Ānanda replied.
“But, Bhagavān, what is the name of this Dharma discourse? By what name
should I remember it?”

The Bhagavān said, “Ānanda, remember this Dharma discourse as
The Lion Roar of Aśokadattā and Aśokadattā’s Prophecy. Teach it to others too!
Ānanda, compared to one who makes offerings of various precious jewels that
completely fill the entire trichiliocosm, one who merely hears this Dharma
discourse will accrue far more merit, not to mention those who memorize it,
promulgate it, maintain it, recite it, explain it, and earnestly put it into
practice in accordance with the transmission.”

When the Bhagavān had finished speaking, the bodhisattva mahāsattva
Aśokadattā, the great śrāvakas, and the world with its gods, humans, asuras,
and gandharvas praised and rejoiced in what the Bhagavān had said.

This concludes “Aśokadattā’s
Prophecy,” the thirty-second chapter of the noble Dharma
discourse The Great Heap of Jewels, which itself has a hundred thousand
chapters.

Colophon

Translated, edited, and finalized by the Indian preceptors
Jinamitra and Surendrabodhi and the chief editor-translator Bandé Yeshé
Dé.

Notes

Bibliography

bodies of reality