銀色女經

Thus have I heard:

At one time the Bhagavān was dwelling in the Jeta Grove, the Garden of Anāthapiṇḍika, in the country of Śrāvastī, together with one thousand two hundred and fifty bhikṣus.

At that time, the World-Honored One addressed the bhikṣus:

"Bhikṣus, if there is any sentient being who can clearly understand the merit and the karmic reward of giving as it truly is to be understood, then during a meal—from the first morsel of food to the last—if he has no open-handed heart of giving, he himself ought not to eat."

Then the World-Honored One spoke this verse:

If there are any sentient beings

Who, as the Buddha has taught,

Set aside a portion of their food to give away,

They will accomplish a great karmic reward.

Whether it be the very first mouthful of rice,

Or whether it be the very last,

Whoever does not use it for giving,

He himself ought not to eat.

When the World-Honored One had finished speaking this verse, he addressed the bhikṣus:

"Bhikṣus, immeasurable kalpas ago in the past, there was a capital city named Lotus, and within that city there was a renowned woman named Silver-Hued, whose appearance was upright and exceedingly beautiful, for she was endowed with the most exquisite of features. One day, having some business to attend to, Silver-Hued left her home and went to a certain house. When she entered the house, she saw a woman who had just given birth to a very beautiful and lovely baby boy. At that moment, the woman was lifting up the child and wished to eat its flesh. Seeing this, Silver-Hued at once asked:

'Sister, what are you doing?'

The new mother replied:

'I am so hungry, I have no strength left, and I do not know what to eat, so I wish to eat my own child.'

Silver-Hued then said to the new mother:

'Sister, stop—this must not be done. Is there no one in this house to provide food for you?'

She replied:

'For a long time I have only hoarded out of stinginess and greed; therefore now I have nothing at all that can be eaten.'

Silver-Hued then said:

'Sister, wait a little while; I will return home and bring you food.'

The woman said again:

'Right now both of my flanks feel as though they are about to break, my back feels as though it will give way, my heart is in turmoil, and wherever I look all is dim and blurred. The moment you step out of this house, surely I will die.'

Then Silver-Hued thought to herself: 'If I take the child away, surely the mother will die; but if I do not take it away, the mother will eat its flesh. I must find some way to save both mother and child.'

She then said to the new mother:

'I need a sharp knife—is there one in this house?'

The new mother said:

'There is.'

And she at once took a knife and handed it to Silver-Hued. Silver-Hued used the knife to cut off both of her own breasts, gave them to the new mother to eat, and said to her:

'Sister, eat my breasts, and your body will be relieved of the suffering of hunger.'

When the new mother had finished eating, Silver-Hued asked again:

'Sister, are you full?'

The new mother replied:

'I am full.'

Silver-Hued said:

'You should know, this little child is the very one I have ransomed with my own body. Now I entrust it to you, for I wish to return home to fetch food.'

When Silver-Hued had finished speaking, blood flowed all over her body, and dragging herself along she made her way home. When her relatives and kinsfolk saw Silver-Hued, they all asked together:

'Who did this?'

Silver-Hued answered:

'I did this to myself.'

They asked again:

'Why did you do such a thing?'

Silver-Hued said:

'I have given rise to a mind that does not forsake great compassion, because I seek the fruit of Supreme, Perfect Enlightenment.'

Her relatives said:

'Although you practice the deed of giving, if your mind still harbors regret, then it is only called giving and is not a pāramitā.'

They asked again:

'At the moment you cut away that part of your body, were you joyful? Do not, because of excessive pain, give rise to grief and regret.'

Silver-Hued then made this vow:

'I cut off my two breasts, and in my heart I harbored no regret, nor did I have any other deluded thought. If this is truly so, may my two breasts be restored as before.'

As soon as Silver-Hued had made this vow, her two breasts returned to normal.

At that time, throughout the city of Lotus, the yakṣas all cried out loudly: 'The woman Silver-Hued has given up her own two breasts.' Then the earth deities heard it and passed it on into the sky. The devas heard it and spread it onward, and so it was transmitted on and on until it reached the Brahmā devas. Śakra, lord of the devas, reflected: 'This is truly a rare event. This woman Silver-Hued, out of compassion for sentient beings, has given up her own two breasts.

Now I shall go and question her.' Having thought thus, Śakra transformed himself into a brāhmaṇa, holding in his left hand a water-vessel and a bowl both made of gold, and in his right hand a staff also made of gold. He went straight to the city of Lotus, gradually made his way to the house where Silver-Hued lived, stood outside the door, and called out for alms. Hearing the voice of someone begging for alms outside the door, Silver-Hued quickly took a vessel filled with food and brought it out to the door.

The brāhmaṇa said:

'Enough, lady; I have no need of food.'

When Silver-Hued asked why, the brāhmaṇa said:

'I am Śakra. Having a doubt concerning you, I have come here; please answer the question I ask.'

Silver-Hued said:

'Great brāhmaṇa, please ask as you wish; I will answer whatever you doubt, and I will satisfy your mind, O brāhmaṇa.'

The brāhmaṇa asked:

'Did you truly cut off your two breasts in order to give them to another?'

She replied:

'It is just so, great brāhmaṇa.'

The brāhmaṇa asked again:

'Why did you do such a thing?'

Silver-Hued answered:

'Because of a mind of great compassion, wishing to attain the fruit of Supreme, Perfect Enlightenment.'

The brāhmaṇa said:

'This is very difficult. What is most difficult is this: with respect to Supreme, Perfect Enlightenment, if after you have given you give rise to a mind of regret, then it is only giving and not a pāramitā. While you were giving, were you joyful? While you were being cut and suffering pain, did you give rise to any other thought?'

Silver-Hued replied:

'O Kauśika, I now make this vow: Because of a mind that seeks omniscience, because of a mind that seeks to surpass all the world, because of a mind that wishes to rescue and liberate all sentient beings, I felt no regret at all when I cut off my two breasts. If it is true that I have no regret, may this female body of mine be transformed into that of a man.'

When Silver-Hued had finished making this vow, she at once became a man. Seeing that her female body had been transformed into a male body, joy arose in her heart, and overcome with boundless delight, he went to the foot of a tree and lay down to sleep.

During that time, the king of Lotus suddenly passed away. Moreover, the king had no son. The weather was exceedingly hot. At that very time, the great ministers searched everywhere—from this forest to that forest, from this village to that village, from this city to that city, from this metropolis to that metropolis—for a person bearing the marks worthy of ascending the throne. The ministers all said: 'What are we to do to find a king who will rule the country in accordance with the true Dharma?'

At that time there was a great minister who, on account of the hot weather, went into the Lotus pond. The great minister suddenly saw a person lying at the foot of a tree, whose appearance was truly perfect and supreme. That person lay sleeping unaware that the sun was shining upon him, yet the shade of the tree always sheltered and cooled him. The great minister snapped his fingers to wake the person, led him into the city of Rājagṛha, had his beard shaved, dressed him in royal robes, set upon him a jeweled crown, and then said to him:

'I beg you, become king and rule the country.'

That person at once replied:

'I am truly unable to manage the affairs of state.'

The ministers said again:

'Today we wish to invite you to ascend the throne.'

He then said:

'If I become king, I shall rule the country in accordance with the Dharma; all the people of the land must uphold the path of the Ten Wholesome Deeds—only then will I consent to become king.'

The ministers all replied:

'We, your ministers, consent to your wish.'

At that very moment everyone undertook the path of the Ten Wholesome Deeds. Having thus exhorted everyone to undertake the path of the Ten Wholesome Deeds, he then ascended the throne, taking the title Silver-Hued.

At that time the people in the land of King Silver-Hued lived for seventy myriad nayutas of years. The king ruled the country for immeasurable hundreds of thousands of years before his life came to an end. Just before his death, the king spoke this verse:

All things are impermanent;

There must surely be dissolution and decay.

What comes together will be parted;

Whatever is born must surely die.

In accordance with the karma one has done,

Whether wholesome or unwholesome,

Everything that has been born

Does not endure for long.

After the king's life came to an end, he was reborn once again in the capital city of Lotus, into the family of an elder. After eight or nine months, the elder's wife gave birth to a son. The boy had a handsome and noble appearance. Only when the boy was more than eight years old did he go to school, together with five hundred other boys. At that school there had previously been five hundred boys reading books. The boy asked his fellow students:

'What are all of you doing here?'

They said:

'We are reading books.'

The boy asked again:

'What benefit is there in reading books? You have no need to read these books; you need only give rise to the mind of Supreme, Perfect Enlightenment.'

His companions asked:

'To give rise to the mind of Supreme, Perfect Enlightenment, what must one do?'

The boy then said:

'Certainly one must cultivate the practice of the six pāramitās, namely:

1. The pāramitā of giving (dāna-pāramitā).

2. The pāramitā of charity.

3. The pāramitā of forbearance (kṣānti-pāramitā).

4. The pāramitā of diligence (vīrya-pāramitā).

5. The pāramitā of meditation (dhyāna-pāramitā).

6. The pāramitā of wisdom (prajñā-pāramitā).'

When his former companions had heard this, they said:

'We give rise to the mind of Supreme, Perfect Enlightenment.'

When the boy had taught everyone to give rise to the mind of Supreme, Perfect Enlightenment, he thought to himself: 'Now I wish to give a little something to the creatures, the two-footed and four-footed beasts.' Having thought thus, the boy went into the Śīta forest, used a sharp knife to cut his body so that blood flowed, smeared it all over his body, then anointed himself with oil, lay down in the forest, and proclaimed to himself:

'You creatures, two-footed and four-footed beasts such as deer and stags, near and far, if you need food, come here and eat my flesh.'

Then there was a bird named Possessing-Claws among a flock of birds, which flew over and alighted upon the boy's forehead, plucked out his right eye, and flew away. The boy asked the bird:

'Why have you plucked out my eye and flown away?'

The bird replied:

'For me, among all the flesh of a human being, only the flesh of the eyes is the most delicious of all.'

The boy said to the bird:

'Even if you were to pluck out a thousand of my right eyes and then fly away, I would still feel no displeasure or regret.'

When the bird there had eaten the boy's two eyes, immeasurable other birds in the forest flew to the boy and ate up all the flesh on his body, leaving only a heap of white bones.

When the boy had relinquished his body in giving, he was again reborn in the capital city of Lotus, into the house of a brāhmaṇa. After exactly ten months, the wife of the brāhmaṇa gave birth to a boy of handsome and noble appearance, unmatched by anyone. When the boy had reached twenty years of age, his parents said:

'Māṇava, we shall build a house for you.'

The boy said to his parents:

'What meaning is there in your building a house for my sake? At present my mind does not dwell at home; I beg you, parents, to let me go into the deep mountains.'

The boy's parents consented to let him go. The boy left home and went to the mountain forest. As soon as he arrived, he saw before him two former brāhmaṇa sages dwelling in that forest. Then Māṇava went to the place of the two brāhmaṇa sages and asked the two of them:

'You two brahma-sages, what are you doing here in the mountain forest?'

They replied:

'Māṇava, we both, for the benefit of sentient beings, dwell in this mountain forest carrying out all manner of austerities.'

The boy said:

'Today I too, for the benefit of all sentient beings, wish to come here to practice austerities.'

Māṇava then went to the grove of trees and heaped up earth to make a dwelling. Through the merit of cultivating wholesome karma, Māṇava suddenly attained the great eye. At that very moment he saw that there was a mountain region, not very far away, where a mother tigress, pregnant, was about to give birth. Seeing this, Māṇava thought: 'This mother tigress will give birth before long. After giving birth, she may perhaps die of starvation, or suffer no end of misery from hunger and thirst, or she may eat her own cubs. Who can cut their own body for this tigress?' After thinking thus, the boy asked: 'Who can cut their own body to feed the tiger?' The sages replied:

'We cannot cut our bodies to give.'

Seven days later the tigress gave birth. Having given birth, she took her cubs in her mouth, set them on the ground, and held them close. Having seen this, Māṇava went to the two sages and said:

'Great sages, the mother tigress has given birth. If the two of you, for the benefit of sentient beings, have practiced so many austerities, then now is the right time to cut the flesh of your own bodies and give it to this tiger.'

Then the two brāhmaṇa sages went straight to the left side of the mother tigress and thought: 'Who can patiently endure this suffering and carry out this great act of giving? Who can cut their own beloved body to feed the hungry tiger?' Having thought thus, the two sages left the mother tigress and went far away; and because they begrudged their own lives, these two sages rose up into the sky and departed.

From afar, Māṇava called out after the two brāhmaṇa sages:

'Is this not the vow you made?'

Having said this, Māṇava made his vow:

'Now I willingly relinquish this body to aid the hungry tiger. May I, through this cause and condition, realize the fruit of Supreme, Perfect Enlightenment.'

Having made this vow, Māṇava picked up the sharp knife from the ground and destroyed his own body in order to give it to the hungry tiger.

"Bhikṣus, I fear that you may give rise to a mind of doubt. Bhikṣus, do not give rise to a mind of doubt, do not think anything otherwise. Why? You should know that the woman Silver-Hued in that kingdom of Lotus at that time, who cut off her two breasts, was no stranger—it was none other than I myself.

"Bhikṣus, do not give rise to a mind of doubt, and do not think anything otherwise. Why? You should know that King Silver-Hued in the capital city of Lotus at that time was also none other than I myself.

"Bhikṣus, do not give rise to a mind of doubt, do not think anything otherwise. Why? You should know that I at that time was named Silver-Hued, who cut off her two breasts in order to rescue that little child.

"Bhikṣus, do not give rise to a mind of doubt, do not think anything otherwise. Why? You should know that the little child at that time was none other than Rāhula.

"Bhikṣus, do not give rise to a mind of doubt, do not think anything otherwise. Why? You should know that the king of the land of Lotus at that time, who in the Śīta grove cut and relinquished his body for the flocks of birds, was no stranger—it was none other than I myself.

"Bhikṣus, do not give rise to a mind of doubt, do not think anything otherwise. Why? You should know that the two brāhmaṇa sages at that time were no strangers—they are none other than these bhikṣus now.

"Bhikṣus, do not give rise to a mind of doubt, do not think anything otherwise. Why? You should know that Māṇava, the son of the brāhmaṇa at that time, was also none other than I myself.

"Bhikṣus, for this reason I tell you: If a bhikṣu clearly understands the merit of giving and the karmic reward of giving, then he should give away the first morsel of his food, or give away the last morsel of his food—only thus should he himself eat."

When the Buddha had spoken this sūtra, the bhikṣus all rejoiced greatly.