觀世音菩薩往生淨土本緣經

Thus indeed have I heard: During the time when the Buddha, together with the great bhikṣus, the great bodhisattvas, and the eightfold assembly of devas, nāgas, and others, was dwelling on the summit of Mount Gṛdhrakūṭa near the city of Rājagṛha, one day the assembly of disciples had gathered around and was respectfully listening to the Buddha expound the causes and conditions of the great bodhisattvas, when suddenly a radiant mass of light appeared before Him, illuminating the whole of Jambudvīpa, and then gradually shining upon the other realms. From within that mass of light there also resounded a verse:

Having accomplished the gate of liberation through great compassion,

Ever abiding on Mount Potalaka, in the Sahā world,

Throughout the day and night, in the six periods, contemplating the world,

By the causes and conditions of his original vow, he rescues all beings.

The great assembly, seeing the light and hearing the verse, all regarded it as something never seen before. With doubt in their hearts, they questioned one another in turn, yet no one knew. At that time, from within the assembly, the bodhisattva Dhāraṇī-īśvara arose and addressed the Buddha:

"World-Honored One! For what cause and condition is there this mass of light, and by whom was it emitted? We have seen the light and heard the verse spoken, yet we do not yet know why. We humbly beseech the World-Honored One to teach us, that we may understand!"

The Buddha said to the bodhisattva Dhāraṇī-īśvara:

"Excellent! Excellent! Listen attentively, and I shall explain!

Going westward from here, passing through twenty Ganges' sands of Buddha-lands, one comes to a world named Sukhāvatī. The beings who dwell therein have none of the various sufferings; they enjoy only complete bliss. The teaching-lord of that realm is the Buddha Amitābha, with countless sages of the Three Vehicles abiding everywhere throughout it.

Among them there is a bodhisattva of the rank of one-life-remaining named Avalokiteśvara-īśvara. This one planted the roots of goodness from a very long and distant past, and has accomplished the conduct and vow of great compassion. Today he will come here to set forth the entire cause and condition of rebirth in Sukhāvatī.

Since the light has already shone throughout the world, it will surely not be long before the bodhisattva arrives. At that time, you should ask about the cause and condition of the verse."

As soon as the Buddha had finished speaking, the bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara-īśvara, together with a hundred thousand great bodhisattvas, simultaneously arrived at the summit of Gṛdhrakūṭa, bowed in reverence, praised and made offerings to the Buddha, and then sat to one side. Thereupon the bodhisattva Dhāraṇī-īśvara, relying on the Buddha's majestic power, drew near to the bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara. After the two had exchanged greetings, the bodhisattva Dhāraṇī-īśvara asked the bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara:

"Venerable one! Within the mass of light that you emitted, a wondrous verse was spoken. We do not yet know its cause and condition, nor its meaning. Pray, venerable one, expound it for the great assembly, that we may understand!"

The bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara-īśvara replied to the bodhisattva Dhāraṇī-īśvara:

"In a past time, inexpressible asaṃkhyeya kalpas ago, in the land of Tianzhu in the southern continent of Jambudvīpa, there was a country named Maṇiparvata. In this country there was a brahmin named Cāṇa, and his wife was named Manasā. This elder was very wealthy, yet he had no son to carry on his line. The husband and wife often lamented: 'Although we have a great abundance of possessions and have nothing further to worry about, our only regret is that we have no son to carry on our line.' Thereafter the husband and wife wholeheartedly made offerings and sacrifices to the heavenly deities, earnestly praying for a son. Before long the wife conceived. When the months and days were complete, she gave birth to a baby boy whose appearance was beautiful beyond compare.

When this child was three years old, she again gave birth to a second baby boy. Having obtained two sons, the brahmin and his wife were exceedingly joyful, and at once invited a physiognomist to come and examine them. After examining them, the physiognomist showed an expression of displeasure. He remained silent for a long while and then said:

'These two boys, although beautiful and upright in appearance, will before long be parted from their father and mother. Therefore, name the elder one Zaoli ("Parted Early") and the younger one Suli ("Parted Soon").'

Although they heard the physiognomist speak thus, the brahmin and his wife still loved and reared them without the slightest dislike. In the year when Zaoli was seven and Suli was five, one day the lady Manasā suddenly fell gravely ill; her body became emaciated, and pain pressed upon her so that she could neither sit nor lie down, and she gave up all food and drink. As she was about to die, the brothers Zaoli and Suli stood beside the bed, gazing upon their mother's body with hearts full of grief, wailing and weeping pitifully. Hearing her two sons lamenting and weeping so mournfully, with tears of blood streaming forth, she forced herself to sit up, reached out both hands to stroke the heads of the two brothers, and said:

'No one can escape the destruction of birth and death, just as the physiognomist foretold before. My only regret is that you have not yet reached adulthood, and I must depart. What karmic retribution have I? Why are you so unfortunate?'

Hearing his mother speak thus, Zaoli fainted and fell beside his mother's bed. After a long while he revived, and again cried out to heaven, lamenting and reproaching:

'We today are still young and ignorant, knowing nothing. If we have no mother, then who will teach us the supreme Way? Heaven and earth are truly vast, yet our minds and spirits truly have no place of refuge. Why does Mother suddenly abandon us and depart?'

The mother hastened to comfort them:

'The Dharma of the world is like this: where there is birth, there must be cessation, like a rushing torrent whose waters pour forth without a moment's pause or rest.' Hearing their mournful weeping and lamentation, the mother's heart again grieved with regret over her own illness.

Suli, being still young, only knew to wrap his two arms around his mother's withered, gaunt neck and weep. Thereupon the lady Manasā said to her two sons:

'If you wish to understand the supreme Way, there is nothing greater than to give rise to the bodhi-mind. The bodhi-mind is precisely the mind of great compassion. If, upon reaching adulthood, you wish to repay the four kinds of grace, then you should give rise to the bodhi-mind. Now you should weep no longer! Although your mother departs, you can still live together with your father.'

Having instructed her sons, she summoned her husband, the brahmin Cāṇa, and admonished him: 'You and I are like the two wheels of a single cart, like the two wings of a single bird. We have two sons; now I depart. You who remain should love and care for them as when I was alive. If you follow a new affinity, do not change this heart.'

Hearing his wife speak, the brahmin fainted and fell to the ground. After a long while he revived and said:

'If a cart lacks a single wheel, it cannot travel even an inch; if a bird loses a single wing, it cannot fly at all, even a few spans. Now that you are about to enter the realm of death, with whom shall I care for and rear our two young sons? The parting of husband and wife, the love between us—this is truly sorrowful. Now I no longer delight in the world; I will cast away my life to die together with you!'

The wife hastened to say:

'The two sons were born of you and me. I beg you, do not die after me; remain to rear them.'

Having spoken thus, she closed her eyes and departed from life. The brahmin and his two sons, in accordance with her final words, buried her and then returned home. Thereupon the elder son sat upon his right knee, his face full of grief and longing for his mother; the younger son sat upon his left knee, asking for food, his heart sorrowful and mournful. He reflected: 'I do not have the strength; perhaps I must seek a wife to come and rear my two young sons.'

At that time, the brahmin Vīra had a daughter of a pure and gentle nature, and so he went to request her in marriage as his wife. Some time afterward, the country suffered famine; the money, wealth, rice, and grain in his house were gradually used up, and the storehouses too were empty. Not knowing by what means to live, he said to his second wife:

'I have heard that if one travels northward for seven days' journey, one reaches Mount Daṇḍaka. In the mountain there are sweet, delicious arjaka fruits. I shall go to that mountain to gather sweet fruits and bring them back to feed you and the two sons. While I am away from home, you must care for them.'

The wife heeded her husband's words and loved and cared for the two sons as her own children. The brahmin went alone to Mount Daṇḍaka, and fourteen days passed, yet he had not returned. Thereupon the wife gave rise to a malicious heart, reflecting: 'If Cāṇa has gone to that mountain and does not return, then how shall I rear these two children? And even if he were to gather sweet fruits and bring them back, he would give them to the two sons he loves—I would have no share at all! Now let me find a means to be rid of them.' So she first spoke with a seafarer, fixing a time to be taken across. Then she said to the two children:

'I do not have the strength to rear you two, and your father has not yet returned. From here, going southward not far, there is an island. On the shore of that wild sea there are sweet fruits, and on the deserted strand there are also green vegetables. Let us, you and I, go to live on that wild island.'

So she took the two children to the seafarer, and the three together boarded the boat and went out to the wild island. When they reached the island, she said to the two children:

'You two go down first and play on the sand! I shall stay a while on the boat to attend to the provisions, and then come down afterward to go with you in search of vegetables and fruits.'

The two children obeyed, and at once left the boat and went ashore, then ran east and rushed west, playing to their hearts' content, no longer thinking of anything else. Thereupon the stepmother secretly returned home with that boat. When the two children came back to the former place, they no longer saw the boat, and the stepmother too was nowhere to be found.

So they ran and called out until their strength was spent and their breath exhausted, yet no one answered. All that day and night, the two children cried and wept most pitifully. Zaoli lamented again: 'Our kind mother departed early and did not return; our revered father went to Mount Daṇḍaka and did not come back; and now the stepmother has abandoned us on this wild island and secretly slipped away.

How shall we preserve our lives?' Suddenly Zaoli recalled the words his mother had admonished him with before her death, and so he thought: 'I should give rise to the unsurpassed mind of the Way, accomplish the great-compassion mind of the bodhisattva, cultivate the gate of liberation, first deliver all people, and only then attain Buddhahood. If it is for the sake of those who have no father and mother, then I shall manifest the form of their father and mother.

If it is for the sake of those who have no original teacher, then I shall reveal the body of an original teacher for them. If it is for the sake of those who are poor and suffering, then I shall manifest a body of wealth and nobility. And so on—if it is for the sake of kings, ministers, elders, laypeople, high officials, brahmins, the four assemblies, and the eightfold assembly, I shall accordingly manifest various bodily forms for each of them.

I vow ever to abide on this island and to bestow peace and joy upon all sentient beings throughout all the realms in the ten directions. I further vow to transform into mountains, rivers, the earth, trees, the five grains, and sweet fruits, so that whoever partakes of them will soon escape birth and death. I also vow to be born in the place where my mother was born, and yet not to depart from the place of my father's birth.' The brothers Zaoli made a hundred such vows, and then passed away.

Thereupon, back in their homeland, the brahmin Cāṇa returned home from Mount Daṇḍaka, bringing the arjaka fruits. First he asked after his two sons; his wife said that the two sons had gone out today to beg for food and had not yet returned. The brahmin then went to the home of a close friend to seek his sons. That friend said:

'You went away more than fourteen days ago, and their stepmother took them and abandoned them on a wild island in the southern sea. Surely they have already starved to death!'

Hearing his friend's words, Cāṇa sighed and reproached himself: 'I went to Mount Daṇḍaka to gather sweet fruits to feed my two sons—what wrong have I done that I must suddenly suffer two sorrows of parting? Before, I could not bear the parting from my virtuous wife, and now I must endure as well this parting while still alive. I truly cannot resign myself to it!'

He then sought out a small boat, and alone rowed out to the wild island to search, but he saw only white bones gathered in one place, while clothing lay scattered on the seashore. Knowing these were the remains of his sons, he wailed in anguish, wrapped them up in a garment, and made a vow:

'I vow to deliver all evil and wicked sentient beings, helping them swiftly to accomplish the Buddha-Way. I vow to transform into the earth, or to transform into water, fire, and wind, or to transform into grasses, trees, and dense forests, to be a place of refuge for sentient beings. Or I shall transform into the five grains to nourish and grow the bodies of sentient beings, or transform into devas, humans, spirits, and bodily forms of every kind, both noble and lowly, manifesting throughout all the Buddha-lands.'

He made five hundred such great vows, and then further vowed ever to abide in the Sahā world, expounding the Dharma and teaching and transforming sentient beings. Thereafter, he fasted for a time and then passed away. At that moment the earth quaked violently, the devas gathered together, the birds and beasts cried out mournfully in distress, the birds flew about in confusion in the sky, and then destroyed themselves to make offerings to those white bones.

Thereupon the bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara-īśvara continued:

"The brahmin Cāṇa is the Tathāgata Śākyamuni of today. The lady Manasā is the Tathāgata Amitābha of the west. Zaoli is myself; Suli is the bodhisattva Mahāsthāmaprāpta; Cāṇa's friend is the bodhisattva Dhāraṇī-īśvara.

Mount Daṇḍaka of old is the present Mount Gṛdhrakūṭa. That wild island is the present Mount Potalaka. In the kalpa of destruction, although the world is entirely destroyed, yet in the kalpa of formation, this mountain appears first of all.

On the north face of this mountain there is a cave like vajra, within which there is a great slab of stone named Ratnakarma. I often sit upon this stone and expound the gate of liberation through the conduct of great compassion, helping sentient beings to accomplish the work of the Way; this is the place where, long ago, Zaoli made his great vow. Upon the summit of this mountain there is a palace of the seven treasures, majestic and marvelous; I often abide within this palace, instructing, teaching, benefiting, and gladdening; this is precisely the place where, long ago, Zaoli called out to his father and mother.

Relying upon that place, I was reborn in the Pure Land and attained the stage of non-retrogression. Now, recalling my casting away of body and life long ago, I therefore ever abide on this mountain. The birds and beasts whom I transformed and delivered long ago now appear as grasses and trees, whose branches and leaves all bend toward the place where I cast away my body.

You should know, venerable ones, that the four lines of verse resounding within the mass of light contain this entire cause and condition."

Thereupon the Tathāgata Śākyamuni praised the bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara:

"Excellent, excellent! It is just as you have said; the cause and condition of former times are indeed all thus. You should know that today I and the Buddha Amitābha, from first to last, have but a single Dharma of teaching and transforming.

It is like a father and mother who have a single young child that unfortunately falls into a deep well. The father hastens down the well, lifts the child out, and places it on the bank. The mother takes it up and brings it back to care for and rear.

The relatives assist the mother in nurturing the child's will, and then form bonds of friendship, so that the child no longer falls into the dangerous deep well. You should know! I am like the loving father; the sentient beings of the age of the five turbidities are like the child fallen into the deep well; the Tathāgata Amitābha is like the kind mother; the bank of the well is like the Pure Land.

Avalokiteśvara and the others are like the friends. Attaining the stage of non-retrogression is like no longer having to fall back into the deep well. I enter the Sahā world, filled with the five turbidities, to teach and transform the foolish sentient beings in the six paths; now that they are reborn in the Pure Land, the Buddha Amitābha ever receives and guides them, never abandoning them.

Avalokiteśvara and Mahāsthāmaprāpta assist and protect them so that they do not regress. All of these things are in accordance with the causes and conditions of vows made in past lives."

When the Tathāgata Śākyamuni had finished speaking these words, the Buddha Amitābha, together with countless hundreds of thousands of holy assemblies, appeared in empty space and spoke a verse:

How excellent! Śākyamuni!

In the age of the five turbidities, you deliver beings;

Whoever hears the name and sees the form

Will assuredly accomplish the Buddha-Way.

By the causes and conditions of former times,

Now I appear in empty space;

Whoever wishes to be born in my realm,

I shall assuredly come to welcome them.

The Tathāgata Śākyamuni spoke a verse praising the Buddha Amitābha:

How excellent! Honored One of Two-fold Perfection!

You bring benefit to this realm,

Bearing witness to the true Dharma,

Bestowing all things through compassion.

If one whose karmic obstructions are heavy

Has no cause to be born in the Pure Land,

Relying on the power of Amitābha's vow,

That one will assuredly attain rebirth.

If a person has committed many offenses

And ought to fall into the hells,

Yet just upon hearing the name of Amitābha,

The fiery furnace becomes a lotus pond.

If one recites the name of Amitābha,

Immeasurable offenses are at once dissolved;

In the present life one attains peace and joy,

And hereafter is born in the Pure Land.

Then the bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara rose from his seat and spoke a verse:

The two Buddhas are like the sun,

Dispelling the darkness of birth and death;

Setting forth the causes and conditions of former times,

Though kalpas pass, they are not exhausted.

I recall, immeasurable kalpas ago,

Upon a certain wild island,

The cause and condition when I gave rise to the mind,

Vowing ever to abide on Potalaka.

In the past, while still within birth and death,

The two Buddhas were mother and father;

Now in the Pure and Defiled realms,

We help one another to deliver the world.

The bodhisattva Mahāsthāmaprāpta spoke a verse:

When I first gave rise to the mind,

I followed the two Buddhas without parting;

Now, hearing the causes and conditions of old,

I know that the affinity has not been lost.

When I move but a single foot,

The afflictions of the three paths are severed;

If anyone is born in the Pure Land,

I extend my hand to receive and guide them.

The bodhisattva Dhāraṇī-īśvara-rāja also spoke a verse:

In the past I was a friend;

Only today do I come to know it.

Hereafter, whoever hears the name

Will assuredly be born in the Western Quarter.

Thereupon the Buddha Amitābha suddenly vanished. The great assembly within the place of the Way rejoiced, bowed in reverence to the Buddhas, and then returned to their own dwelling places.

Notes:

[1] Brahmin (Phạm sĩ): that is, brahmacārin (Phạm chí).

[2] Instructing, teaching, benefiting, and gladdening (示教利喜): to reveal the meaning, to instruct in cultivation, to set forth the benefits of accomplishing the practice, and to praise so that people rejoice.