五母子經

In ancient times there was an Arhat who dwelt in the mountains, cultivating and upholding the practice of the Way. There was a small child, just seven years of age, who delighted greatly in the Dharma; thus he forsook his mother and went forth into homelessness, becoming a Sramanera (novice) under the Sramana who lived in the mountains. The Sramanera received instruction in the Way and assisted his master in all that he had need of, reciting the scriptures and practicing the Way without indolence.

By the age of eight the Sramanera attained the eye of wisdom, seeing afar without limit, his ears hearing sounds with clarity, penetrating throughout all of heaven and earth. Wherever deeds good or evil were done, he heard and knew them; his body possessed the power to fly about at will, and of himself he could work transformations and divide his body, there being nothing he could not do. He knew of himself his own past lives, and whence human beings and the various kinds of animals and insects had been born and come.

He knew clearly all the paths of good and evil he had passed through. The Sramanera, knowing that in his past lives he had been the son of five mothers, then smiled to himself. His master asked him, "Why do you smile?"

The Sramanera replied, "I smile at nothing at all."

The master said, "In these mountains there is no singing nor any music; so then, are you laughing at me?"

The Sramanera said: Yes,

I would not dare to laugh at you, Master; I was only smiling to myself. I remember that in my former lives I was the son of five mothers, and all of those mothers, for my sake, wept day and night, grieving with sorrow and anguish that knew no relief, ever remembering and thinking of me with a care they could by no means forget. I recall that this single self of mine has brought sorrow and suffering to five households. For this reason I smiled; how would I dare to laugh at my master?

When I was the son of the first mother, nearby there was also one born on the very same day as I, and after that day I died. That woman's son played and ran and leapt about, and my mother, seeing this, grieved and remembered, thinking: "Were my own son still living, he too would play and run and leap about like that." She thought of and grieved for her son, sorrowing, her tears falling like rain.

When I was the son of the second mother, my lifespan was short and I died early. My mother, seeing others nursing their children, was filled with grief, her tears streaming down as she sighed and remembered her son.

When I was the son of the third mother, in the year I reached ten years of age I again died young. At mealtimes my mother, filled with grief, would weep in secret, thinking: "Were my son still living, he would eat his meal together with me. Now that he has died, I must eat alone."

She, longing for and remembering her son, choked with sobs and wept aloud.

When I was the son of the fourth mother, ill-fated, I died early. My companions had taken wives, and my mother, seeing this, remembered and thought: "Were my son still living, I too would take a wife for him." She lamented and wept: "I have not wronged Heaven, so why has Heaven slain my son?"

When I was the son of the fifth mother, just seven years of age, I delighted in the Way, and so I left my mother and departed from my home, following my master into the mountains to seek the Way, and I attained the fruit of Arhatship. My mother, day after day, wept and lamented: "I have but a single son, and he has followed a master to study the Way. I do not know where he is, whether he hungers or is full, is cold or hot, alive or dead; I cannot meet with him." She, longing for and remembering her son, wept in piteous sorrow.

These five mothers loved their sons. Each of them wept and lamented, saying: "My son is lost, and I shall never be able to meet him again!" Thus lamenting, they wept on without ceasing. With a single body and a single soul I moved everywhere about, in turn becoming the son of the five mothers.

These five, because they remembered and grieved for their sons, and because of their doubts and stubborn clinging, were thereby caused to give rise to suffering, weeping and frenzied with grief. Now my desires are ended, and for this reason I smile. I reflect that in the world people do not know that after death there is a place of rebirth; living together with one another, they say that death is the end.

As for whoever well understands that after death there is a place to which one goes, then in living he should do good, and so will reap that blessing for himself. He who does evil takes upon himself the calamity thereof, and none can escape from disaster or blessing. In the world, while yet alive, people commit deeds of evil, fearing and shrinking from nothing.

After death they fall into the great hells and suffer many torments, and afterward their repentance comes too late. I, wearied of the world, deliberately forsook my father and mother and entered the mountains, striving diligently to seek the Way. Now I see beasts, hungry ghosts, and the denizens of the hells suffering many torments and terrors.

By the grace of the Buddha I have been able to hear the scriptures and the Dharma. Day and night I remember and grieve for my five mothers, who have no power to deliver themselves. I have attained what I aspired to and am no longer troubled with sorrow.

I reflect that the people of the world, in turn giving birth to one another, take joy and laugh together within the round of rebirth, which has no day of ending. Though this body be returned to the dust, the consciousness yet remains active, following after good and evil, unable to save itself. I have attained liberation because I have departed far from craving and desire, and have cut off utterly the very root of lustful desire.

I shall not return to birth and death. I grieve for all those whose kindred ties have been severed, yet who will not sow the seeds of the practice of the Way, the supreme bliss of Nirvana, and so must endure many sufferings without end.

Having spoken thus to his master, the Sramanera then flew away.