佛說貧窮老公經

Thus have I truly heard: At one time, the Buddha, together with one thousand two hundred and fifty śramaṇas and ten thousand bodhisattvas, was dwelling at the Jeta Grove, the Garden of Anāthapiṇḍika, in the country of Śrāvastī. At that time there were also devas, nāgas, ghosts, and spirits, and a countless great assembly gathered together, reverently surrounding him to hear the Buddha expound the Dharma, and all were filled with joy.

At that time, there was a poor old man, already two hundred years old, whose eyebrows were very beautiful, whose ears were very long, whose teeth were even and white, and whose arms reached down past his knees. Though his outward appearance seemed to bear auspicious marks, he was poverty-stricken and wretched, his clothes not enough to cover his body, leaving it exposed; he also constantly suffered from hunger and thirst, and the moment he took a step he was already gasping for breath.

Hearing that the Buddha was still in the world, he was greatly delighted, and day and night he made the vow that he wished to meet him. By now ten years had passed, and only now had this vow been fulfilled. He then leaned on his staff and came, seeking to meet the Buddha.

But Śakra, lord of the devas, and Brahmā, guarding the gate, would not allow him to enter. He then lamented in a loud voice: "How unfortunate it is that I was born into this world—poverty-stricken and wretched, hungry, thirsty, cold, and freezing; I seek death but cannot attain it, yet living, I have no place of refuge. I heard that the loving-kindness of the World-Honored One extends far and wide, that all beings receive its benefit and everyone receives its grace, and so my heart was greatly delighted, and day and night I made the vow to meet him.

By now ten years have passed, and only now has this vow been fulfilled. Therefore, I came from afar to this place only to beg an audience with the World-Honored One, to seek release from all suffering—yet you obstruct me. In this way, you have gone against my vow and also gone against the Buddha's intention.

How can this be so!"

The Buddha, knowing of this matter, then asked Ānanda:

"Ānanda! Have you seen this aged man, who lives long and bears noble marks yet must still endure the retribution of his offenses?"

Ānanda knelt down, joined his palms, and said:

"World-Honored One! A person who has merit and lives long—how could he have offenses! A person who has offenses—how could he bear noble marks! In all my life, I have never seen such a thing. Where is this person now?"

The Buddha said:

"That person is outside the gate; Śakra, lord of the devas, and the king Brahmā have obstructed him. You may call for that person to enter!"

At this time, the old man used his two elbows to crawl in. Seeing the Buddha, his heart was filled with mingled joy and sorrow, and his tears streamed down. He paid homage to the Buddha, knelt down, joined his palms, and said:

"My life has been unfortunate—poverty-stricken and wretched, hungry, thirsty, cold, and freezing; I seek death but cannot attain it, yet living, I have no place to rely upon. I heard that the World-Honored One's benevolence extends far and wide, that all beings hope to receive its benefit, and that there is no one who does not receive its grace, and so my heart was greatly delighted, and day and night I made the vow to behold your noble countenance just once.

By now ten years have passed, and only now has this vow been fulfilled. I stood outside the gate for a very long time but could not enter; I wished to leave, but I had no more strength, and advancing or retreating, I was at the end of all means. I feared only that my life would come to an end and would defile the sacred gate, thereby adding to my offenses.

Unexpectedly, the Heaven-Honored One[1] has taken pity on me and allowed me to enter. Even if I were to die now, I would have no regret! I wish only that my life may swiftly come to an end, so as to repay all my offenses for future lives.

May the World-Honored One bestow upon me transcendent wisdom."

The Buddha taught:

"Humankind comes into existence through the causes and conditions of birth and death; because of many causes and conditions, there arise the roots of offenses. Today I shall tell you the origin of this. In a former life, you were born into the household of a king who was wise and intelligent, ruling over a vast country, wealthy and powerful. At that time, you were a crown prince, noble beyond the ordinary—above, you were cherished by your father and mother; below, you were revered by your subjects. For this reason, you gave free rein to your contempt for others, arrogant and self-aggrandizing. Your countless possessions all came from the people; the impoverished common folk were all plundered by you. You knew only how to hoard, and did not know how to give in charity.

"At that time, there was an ascetic śramaṇa named Tĩnh Chí (Quietude of Aspiration), who, from a distant country, resolved to come and meet you. This śramaṇa asked only for a single Dharma robe, but you had no wish to receive him at all and treated him very harshly: you neither gave him a robe nor gave him food, and as he sat before you hungry and thirsty, you walked away without any regard for him. After seven days, the śramaṇa's body was utterly exhausted, his breath faint, his life like a lamp flame before the wind.

Yet seeing this, you were greatly delighted, gathering everyone to come and watch, and taking it as your pleasure. At that time, an attendant official standing nearby remonstrated with you: 'The crown prince should not act in this way. The śramaṇa is gentle and humble, his virtue hidden within—in the freezing weather he knows no cold, and fasting he knows no hunger.

The reason he came here to ask for a Dharma robe was to cultivate merit. If the crown prince does not wish to give it, then let it be; but why make the śramaṇa suffer so! I beg you, tell the śramaṇa to go elsewhere, and do not invite offense upon yourself!'

"The crown prince replied: 'Who is this person who falsely claims virtue? I am merely letting him taste a little hardship; I am not causing him to die. At the proper time I shall release him. You have nothing to worry about!' Having said this, he immediately drove the śramaṇa out of the country.

"When the śramaṇa was still more than ten leagues from crossing the border, he encountered a band of famished bandits who wished to kill him to eat his flesh. The śramaṇa then said: 'I am a śramaṇa, hungry and cold, my body so emaciated that only skin clings to bone. What is more, my flesh is rank and foul, not worth eating. To kill me would only be wasted effort, of no benefit at all!'

"The famished bandits replied: 'We have been starving for many days, eating only earth. Though you are somewhat emaciated, you are still flesh; we shall by no means release you—you must accept death.'

"As they went back and forth in this exchange, the bandits hesitated for a long while, and before they could kill the śramaṇa, the crown prince came to learn of it, and so he immediately came to the rescue and said to the śramaṇa: 'Although I did not give you clothing and food, how could I let you be seized and killed by famished bandits!' Seeing the crown prince, the bandits all bowed their heads, acknowledged their offense, and then released the śramaṇa to go.

The śramaṇa of that time is now the bodhisattva Maitreya, and that noble crown prince is none other than you. That you now endure this retribution of poverty in this life is because of your greed and stinginess in a former life. The reason you have attained a long life is owing to your saving the life of the śramaṇa.

The retribution of offenses and blessings is like a shadow following a form, like an echo following a sound."

Hearing the Buddha's teaching, the old man then said to the Buddha:

"Since my past offenses were thus, I beg to repay them all in this life. Furthermore, I pray that for the remaining days of my life I may become a śramaṇa, and that hereafter, life after life, I may ever attend at the Buddha's side."

The Buddha taught:

"Excellent, excellent!"

At that very moment, the old man's hair and beard fell of themselves to the ground, the Dharma robe naturally clothed his body, his vigor became full, his ears keen and his eyes clear, and he at once attained supreme wisdom and entered the gate of samādhi. Then the World-Honored One spoke in verse:

In the past you were a crown prince

Who knew not the Way of benevolence and righteousness;

Arrogant and unrestrained,

You relied on the power of a great country's king.

You said of yourself there was no offense or blessing,

Holding that you would endure forever;

How could you know the enmity of birth and death?

Now you suffer that calamity.

From your offenses you have again been saved,

Beholding the Heaven-amid-Heavens;[2]

Released from the offenses of the past,

When life ends, you enter the Buddha's Dharma.

Far departing from the mind of greed and stinginess,

You forever attain the root of wisdom;

Life after life you follow and attend the Buddha,

Living long throughout ten thousand kalpas.

When this aged bhikṣu had finished hearing the sūtra, his heart was greatly delighted, and he paid homage to the Buddha.

At that time the World-Honored One said to Ānanda:

"If there is anyone who recites this sūtra, he shall come to behold the thousand Buddhas of the Worthy Kalpa. Whoever cultivates practice in accordance with this sūtra and causes it to be handed down to later ages shall receive the prediction of buddhahood from the Buddha Maitreya. The Tathāgata's tongue is broad and long, and his words are never in any way false."

Hearing the Buddha's teaching, the entire great assembly all joyfully received and upheld it, and bowed their heads in homage.

Notes:

[1] Heaven-Honored One (天尊 Thiên Tôn): The Buddha is the deva of the supreme meaning, the most honored among the heavens, and so he is venerated by the title "Heaven-Honored One."

[2] Heaven-amid-Heavens (天中天 Thiên Trung Thiên): The most excellent among the ranks of the devas.