修行本起經

Chapter 4: THE EXCURSION

King Suddhodana said to the Crown Prince:

-You should go out and tour the surrounding places.

The Crown Prince thought to himself: “I have remained in the inner palace for a long time and have wished to go outside. Now my wish has been fulfilled.”

The king issued an order throughout the kingdom:

-The Crown Prince will go on an excursion. Repair the roads, sweep them clean, burn incense, and hang banners, precious canopies, and other adornments, so that everything may be clean, beautiful, and cheerful.

The Crown Prince led a retinue of thousands upon thousands of carriages and horses. First, the procession went out through the eastern gate of the city.

At that time, a deva of the Pure Abodes named Nandivara wished to cause the Crown Prince swiftly to leave the household life, to rescue sentient beings who were being consumed by the flames of the three poisons, and to pour down the rain of Dharma to extinguish those poisonous flames. Nandivara transformed himself into an old man squatting by the roadside. His hair was white and his teeth had fallen out; his skin was wrinkled and his face unsightly. His body was gaunt, his back hunched, and his hands and feet bent and twisted. His eyes and nose ran, saliva continually dripped from his mouth, and his breath came in wheezing gasps. His body was darkened, his head and hands trembled, and his whole frame shook. Filth from within his body discharged of itself, and he sat and lay in it.

The Crown Prince asked:

-What kind of person is this?

The deva roused the attendant, who replied:

-An old man.

The Crown Prince asked again:

-What is an old man?

The attendant replied:

-An old man is one advanced in years, whose body has become withered. His appearance has declined and changed, and his strength and vitality have dried up. Food and drink are difficult for him to digest; his sinews and bones have weakened; and when sitting or lying down, he must be supported by others. His sight is dim and his hearing impaired. He is about to return to the realm of death and therefore often speaks sorrowful words. Little remains of his life. For these reasons, he is called an old man.

The Crown Prince lamented:

-Human beings born into this world must face the affliction of old age, yet fools remain consumed by craving. What joy can there be? The myriad things arise in spring, but wither when autumn and winter arrive. Old age comes as swiftly as a flash of lightning; how can the body endure?

He spoke these verses:

In old age, form and complexion decline;

Illness leaves one withered and gaunt.

The skin sags and the sinews contract;

Life draws ever nearer to death.

In old age, form and complexion change,

Like an ancient carriage.

The Dharma can eliminate suffering;

Therefore strive diligently to learn.

Life is truly fragile;

Exert yourselves while there is still time.

The world is indeed impermanent;

Deluded beings fall into ignorance.

One must learn to illuminate the mind,

Train oneself, and seek wisdom.

Remain far apart and be undefiled;

Hold a torch to illuminate the path.

The Crown Prince mounted his carriage and returned to the royal palace. Pitying sentient beings who must undergo this great calamity, he remained deeply troubled.

The king asked the attendant:

-The Crown Prince went on an excursion; why did he return so quickly?

The attendant replied:

-On the road, the Crown Prince encountered an old man. His heart was filled with compassion, and he became unhappy. He returned to the royal palace, but his heart remains sorrowful and troubled.

After some time, when his sorrow had somewhat abated, the Crown Prince again wished to go on an excursion. His royal father issued an order throughout the kingdom:

-The Crown Prince is about to go on an excursion. I forbid any impure thing from being displayed along the roadside.

The Crown Prince then mounted his carriage and went out through the southern gate of the city. A deva transformed himself into a sick man lying beside the road. His body was emaciated, but his belly was swollen; his entire body was yellow and feeble. He coughed and wheezed, and his sinews and bones ached. His nine orifices were ulcerated and constantly discharged filthy fluids. His eyes could not see forms, and his ears could not hear sounds. His breathing was obstructed, and his hands and feet flailed about as he called for his mother and father and grieved for his wife and children.

The Crown Prince asked:

-Why is this man like this?

The attendant replied:

-He is a sick man.

The Crown Prince asked again:

-What is sickness?

The attendant replied:

-A human being consists of the four great elements: earth, water, fire, and wind. Each element gives rise to one hundred and one illnesses. As they successively come into conflict with one another, all four hundred and four illnesses arise at once. This man may have become ill from excessive cold, excessive heat, excessive hunger, overeating, excessive thirst, or drinking too much. Changes in the weather and irregular sleeping and waking have therefore brought about this illness.

The Crown Prince lamented:

-I dwell amid the greatest wealth and honor in the world, enjoying food and drink replete with every fine flavor. I let my mind run heedlessly free and indulge in the five desires. Yet without realizing it, I too shall become ill. How would I differ from that sick man?

He spoke these verses:

This body is exceedingly fragile,

A conjunction of the four great elements.

Filthy fluids flow from its nine orifices;

It is subject to old age and illness.

Even birth among the devas is impermanent;

In the human realm, old age and illness bring distress.

Contemplate the body as a bubble of water;

What joy can there be in this world?

The Crown Prince turned his carriage around and returned to the royal palace, reflecting that everyone is subject to this great suffering.

His royal father asked the attendant:

-How was the Crown Prince’s excursion today?

The attendant replied:

-The Crown Prince encountered a sick man, and therefore he was unhappy.

After some time, when his distress had somewhat subsided, the Crown Prince again wished to go on an excursion. The king issued an order throughout the kingdom:

-The Crown Prince will go on an excursion. Clear away all filth and do not leave it on either side of the road.

The Crown Prince and his retinue went out through the western gate. Once again, a deva transformed himself, this time into a dead man being carried beyond the city on a bier. His entire family followed the bier, wailing bitterly: “Why have you abandoned us and departed forever?”

The Crown Prince asked:

-What has happened to this man?

The attendant replied:

-He is a dead man.

He asked again:

-What is death?

The attendant said:

-Death means coming to an end. The spirit departs from the body, the four great elements disperse, and the consciousness becomes unsettled. When the wind element is lost, breathing ceases; when the fire element is extinguished, the body grows cold.

The wind element departs first, the fire element follows, and the spirit leaves last of all. The dead person’s body lies rigid and no longer perceives anything. After about ten days, the flesh ruptures, blood flows out, and the body swells and reeks until nothing remains.

Worms arise within the body and in turn devour that person’s flesh. The sinews and vessels completely decay, and the bones fall apart. The skull lies in one place, while the ribs, spine, shoulder blades, spleen, arms, and legs each become scattered elsewhere.

Birds and beasts vie with one another to consume the corpse. Whether devas, dragons, ghosts, spirits, kings, common people, the poor, the wealthy, the honored, or the lowly—none can escape this calamity.

After hearing this, the Crown Prince sighed and spoke these verses:

Contemplating the body’s old age, illness, and death,

My heart grows still more sorrowful.

Human life is forever impermanent;

My own body will likewise be so.

This body is a thing destined for death;

The spirit is formless by nature.

Through provisional conjunction, one dies and is born again;

Sin and merit are never entirely lost.

Beginning and end are not confined to one life;

Because ignorance and craving endure so long,

One personally undergoes suffering and joy;

Though the body dies, the spirit does not perish.

Whether in the sky or in the sea,

Or amid the rocky mountains,

There is no place anywhere

Where one can wholly escape death.

The Crown Prince turned his carriage around and returned to the royal palace. Pitying sentient beings afflicted by the great sufferings and calamities of old age, illness, and death, he became sorrowful and would neither eat nor drink.

The king asked the attendant:

-Did the Crown Prince enjoy his excursion?

The attendant hastily reported:

-The Crown Prince encountered a dead man, and therefore he found no joy.

After some time, when his distress had temporarily abated, the Crown Prince again wished to go on an excursion. Everyone adorned the royal carriage, and they went out through the northern gate of the city. Once again, a deva transformed himself, this time into a sramana wearing robes and carrying an alms bowl. He walked forward calmly, his eyes looking straight ahead. The Crown Prince asked:

-What kind of person is this?

The attendant replied:

-This is a sramana.

The Crown Prince immediately asked:

-What is a sramana?

The attendant replied:

-I have heard that one who follows the path of a sramana bids farewell to family, wife, and children, renounces craving and desire, severs the six sense faculties, and observes the precepts of the unconditioned. Such a person will attain one-pointedness of mind and eliminate every form of perversity. The path of one-pointedness of mind means the fruition of arhatship, and one who attains the fruition of arhatship is a True Person. Such a person is not defiled by sounds and forms, nor subdued by glory, wealth, rank, or position. Like the earth, he is difficult to shake. He has escaped suffering and is master of his own life and death.

The Crown Prince said:

-Excellent! I would greatly delight in becoming like this.

He then spoke this verse:

Alas, how grievous is this suffering

Disasters of birth, aging, sickness, and death,

The spirit again enters realms of suffering,

Passing through countless afflictions.

Now I must extinguish this suffering,

Eliminate birth, aging, sickness, and death,

Never again return to sensual craving,

And forever attain nirvana.

The Prince hurried back to the royal palace, sorrowful and refusing food and drink. The King asked his attendants:

—When the Prince went sightseeing this time, did he find any joy?

The attendants replied:

—The Prince encountered a śramaṇa and became doubly distressed. He has no desire to eat or drink.

Upon hearing this, the King, his father, became furious. Striking the table forcefully with his hand, he said:

—Previously, I ordered the roads to be cleared. How could the Prince have been allowed to see such inauspicious things? This offense truly deserves death!

The King immediately summoned his ministers, and the officials deliberated together to devise a way to prevent the Prince from leaving the royal palace to seek the Path. One official reported:

—We should take the Prince to observe farmers cultivating the fields. This will change his thoughts and cause him no longer to remember the path of spiritual practice.

The King accepted this proposal and ordered that all the farming implements be prepared, together with a retinue to accompany him. They plowed and harrowed a small field for the Prince to inspect.

The Prince sat beneath a Jambu tree. He saw a farmer plowing the furrows, exposing swarms of writhing insects. The devas further conjured a vision in which the oxen’s necks were chafed and ulcerated; insects fell beneath the broken clods of earth, and birds swooped down, contending with one another to peck at them. The devas then caused a frog to wriggle about searching for an eel to devour; a snake emerged from its hole, seized the frog, and swallowed it; a peacock flew down and pecked at the snake; a hungry hawk came and carried off the peacock; and then a kite came and seized the hawk to devour it.

Witnessing the animals contending and devouring one another in this way, the bodhisattva’s heart was filled with loving-kindness and compassion. At that very moment, beneath the tree, he attained the First Dhyāna. The sunlight was then blazing, but the tree’s branches bent down to cast shade and keep his body cool.

The King thought, “The Prince has lived in the palace and has never known what suffering is.” He then asked the Prince’s attendants:

—Where is the Prince now?

An attendant replied:

—He is sitting beneath the Jambu tree, his mind unified in meditation.

The King said:

—I arranged for the Prince to go sightseeing so that his mind might be relieved, yet he continues to meditate just as he did in the royal palace.

The King ordered a carriage prepared and went to bring the Prince back. From afar, everyone saw the Prince sitting beneath the tree, whose bending branches shaded him, while his countenance shone with an extraordinary radiance. The King, his father, involuntarily dismounted, bowed in reverence to the Prince, and returned with him to the royal palace.

Before the procession had even reached the city gate, row upon row and multitude upon multitude of people came bearing incense and flowers to welcome him. All the physiognomists raised their voices and proclaimed, “May he live immeasurably long!”

The King, his father, asked the reason, and a brahmin replied:

—Tomorrow, as soon as the sun appears, the seven treasures will arrive.

The King was greatly delighted, believing that the Prince would become a noble Universal Monarch.

Chapter 5: THE PRINCE RENOUNCES THE HOUSEHOLD LIFE

After returning to the royal palace, the Prince constantly contemplated and recollected the pure principles of the Path. He thought that he should not live the household life, but should dwell amid mountains and forests and diligently practice meditation.

When he reached the age of nineteen, on the seventh day of the fourth month, the Prince made the vow to renounce the household life. It was then past midnight, and as the morning star arose, devas filled the sky, encouraging the Prince to depart. At that time, Gopā had five dreams and awoke with a start. The Prince asked:

—Why did Gopā start awake?

Gopā replied:

—Just now, in my dreams, I saw Mount Sumeru lean over and collapse; the bright moon suddenly fall to the earth; a precious jewel abruptly disappear; the topknot upon my head fall off; and someone seize my parasol. For this reason, I awoke with a start.

The bodhisattva thought, “These five dreams correspond to my intention to leave home and become a renunciant.” The Prince told Gopā:

—Mount Sumeru has not leaned over or collapsed; the moon still shines brightly; the precious jewel has not disappeared; the topknot upon your head has not fallen off; and your parasol is still here. Sleep peacefully and do not worry.

At that time, the devas discussed among themselves: “The Prince is about to depart, but we fear that he may be detained.” They therefore summoned the deity Ô-tô-mạn to enter the palace in person. While everyone in the kingdom was sound asleep, Nan-đề-bồ-na transformed the palaces into charnel grounds. Gopā and the courtesans all appeared as corpses, their bones scattered here and there, their skulls lying in different places, their bodies swollen and putrid, while blood and pus accumulated and continually overflowed.

The Prince saw that the palaces had all become charnel grounds. Birds and beasts such as kites, jackals, wolves, tigers, and leopards flew and ran through them. The Prince contemplated all these phenomena as illusions and conjurations, as dreams and echoes. All return to emptiness, yet fools deliberately cling to them. The Prince immediately summoned Chandaka and told him to bring his horse at once. Chandaka reported:

—It is not yet dawn. Why should I bring the horse?

The Prince spoke this verse:

I take no delight in worldly life;

Chandaka, do not detain me.

If I fulfill my original vow,

I shall remove your suffering in the three times.

Chandaka hurriedly brought the white horse to the Prince. The horse reared up and could not be approached. Chandaka returned and reported to the Prince:

—The horse is unruly; I cannot lead him here.

The bodhisattva personally approached and gently stroked the horse’s back, saying:

Through the long course of samsara,

Now end your lives as a mount.

Kanthaka, carry me forth;

When I attain the Path, I shall not forget you.

When Chandaka had finished preparing the horse, Kanthaka secretly thought, “Now I shall leap upon the ground and awaken everyone.” But four deities supported the horse’s hooves, preventing them from touching the earth. The horse wished to neigh loudly so that all places near and far would hear, but the devas caused the sound to dissolve into the empty sky.

The Prince leapt onto the horse’s back and rode out through the gate of the royal city. Devas, nāgas, Śakra, Brahmā, and the gods of the Four Heavenly Kings joyfully followed him, filling the entire sky. At that moment, the guardian deity of the city gate appeared, bowed, and said:

—In the kingdom of Kapilavastu, you are the foremost person under heaven, bringing peace and prosperity to the people. Why, then, do you abandon it and depart?

The Prince replied in verse:

Samsara is truly long;

I have passed through the five destinies.

When I fulfill my original vow,

I shall open the gate of nirvana.

At that moment, the city gate opened of itself. Kanthaka sped forth as though flying, and by daybreak he had traveled four hundred and eighty leagues. Upon reaching the land of Anomā, the Prince stopped. He removed his robes, crown, precious jeweled necklaces, and all his other ornaments, handed them to Chandaka, and said:

—Lead the horse back. On my behalf, offer my farewells to the Great King and the ministers of the kingdom.

Chandaka replied:

—Please allow me to follow the Prince and provide whatever you may need. I cannot ride the horse back alone. The mountains and forests contain many venomous snakes, tigers, wolves, lions, and other beasts. Who will attend to your food, drink, and bedding? How could I leave you here alone? I must follow you to protect your life.

The horse Kanthaka knelt down at full length as tears streamed from his eyes. He licked the Prince’s feet with his tongue. Though he saw water, he would not drink; though he encountered grass, he would not eat. He cried out pitifully and lingered, unwilling to depart. The Prince spoke this verse:

A strong body is struck down by sickness;

When vitality flourishes, age will bring decline.

In death we are lost; in life we are parted—

What joy can there be in the world?

Chandaka sorrowfully bowed at the Prince’s feet, then took the horse by the reins, bade farewell, and returned. Before Chandaka reached the royal city, while he was still forty miles outside it, the white horse neighed piteously, and its cries resounded throughout the kingdom. Everyone in the land said to one another, “The Prince has returned.” The people throughout the kingdom followed one another out to welcome the Prince, but they saw only Chandaka leading the horse Kanthaka back alone. Seeing this, Gopa immediately set down the young prince, went over, embraced the white horse’s neck, and shed tears like rain. When the King, his father, saw Gopa weeping, his whole being was overcome with grief, yet he restrained himself and said:

“My son is cultivating the path of the unconditioned.”

When the people of the kingdom saw the King and Gopa choking with grief and lamenting, they too could not help but feel anguish and sorrow. Day and night, Gopa longed for the Prince without respite.

The King summoned his ministers and said:

“I have only this one Prince, yet he has left me for the mountain forests. Now you must go in successive groups of five to attend upon the Prince, and none of you may turn back midway.”

Having freed himself from worldly life, the Prince was filled with joy and walked leisurely into the city. When the people of the kingdom saw the Prince, they rejoiced and could never tire of beholding him. The Prince had already renounced affection and attachment and distanced himself from all sources of suffering.

He thought of shaving his head, but there was no implement in the mountain forest. The deity who had received a razor from Lord Sakra to shave his hair then came before him. The people of the kingdom followed to behold the Prince.

The Prince then departed from that kingdom, and some people followed him as far as the kingdom of Magadha. He entered through the right-hand gate and departed through the left-hand gate. When the men and women, old and young, of that kingdom beheld the Prince, some called him a celestial being, while others called him Sakra, Brahma King, a deity, or a Dragon King.

They rejoiced with delight, yet wondered what kind of divine being he might be.

Knowing their thoughts, the Prince went and sat beneath a tree beside the road. The people joyfully gathered around him in admiration. At that time, King Bimbisara asked his messenger:

“Why is the kingdom so quiet, without any sound?”

The messenger replied:

“This morning an ascetic passed through this kingdom. His majestic bearing was radiant, such as is rarely found in the world. Everyone in the kingdom followed to behold him and has not yet returned.”

The King and his ministers then went together to the ascetic. From afar, they beheld the Prince’s wondrous and radiant marks. They approached and asked him:

“Are you a deity?”

The Prince replied:

“I am not a deity.”

The King asked:

“If you are not a deity, from what kingdom have you come? What is your name and lineage?”

The Prince replied:

“I come from north of the Snowy Mountains and east of Mount Gandhamadana. I dwell in the kingdom of Kapilavastu. My royal father is Suddhodana, and my royal mother is Maya.”

King Bimbisara asked:

“Are you Prince Siddhartha?”

He replied:

“Yes, I am.”

King Bimbisara was awestruck. He rose, bowed at the Prince’s feet, and said:

“When the Prince was born into the world, his physical marks clearly revealed qualities unlike those of other people. You are destined to become a wheel-turning sage-king, sovereign over the four continents beneath heaven. All within the four seas look up to you and eagerly await the arrival of the precious sovereign. Why, then, have you abandoned your celestial throne and willingly entered the mountain forests? Surely you perceive life differently; I beg to hear your lofty intent.”

The Prince replied:

“I perceive that sentient beings and all phenomena in the world, once born, must decay and perish. All are governed by four great sufferings: birth, aging, illness, and death, from which no one can escape. This body is a vessel containing every kind of suffering and countless fears. If I remained in an honored position, arrogance and heedlessness would arise in me, and I would crave sensual pleasures. The world is beset by afflictions. Therefore, I have grown weary of it and wish to enter the mountain forests.”

The elders said:

“Aging, illness, and death are ordinary realities of the world. Why should the Prince alone be troubled by them? Moreover, you have renounced your exalted station to dwell in seclusion in a deserted forest, subjecting your body to hardship. Is this not arduous?”

The Prince spoke these verses:

If those within the womb were free from filth,

If people remained forever pure and undefiled,

If suffering were neither great nor worthy of concern,

Who in the world would not delight in it?

If, in old age, a person’s form did not change,

If people did good and committed no evil,

If separation from those one loves brought no suffering,

Who in the world would not delight in it?

If sickness were not a cause for fear,

If evil deeds brought no retribution in future lives,

If those who fell into hell endured no suffering,

Who in the world would not delight in it?

If people remained forever young and their bodies never decayed,

If disagreeable things caused no distress,

If, when death approached, there were no fear,

Who in the world would not delight in it?

If delusion were not dense and dark,

If anger created no enemies,

If the mind were unstained by the five sensual pleasures,

Who in the world would not delight in it?

If one did not dwell together with fools,

If one naturally departed from the ways of delusion,

If fools harbored no deluded perceptions,

Who in the world would not delight in it?

If evil deeds were few,

If all evils, once extinguished, departed of themselves,

If one gave no thought to evil,

Who in the world would not delight in it?

If worldly evil were regarded as supreme,

If evil, once extinguished, never arose again,

If evil deeds had no true existence,

Who in the world would not delight in it?

If celestial beings enjoyed blessings forever,

If human lives endured eternally,

If there were no further transmigration through the realms,

Who in the world would not delight in it?

If the skandhas and hindrances were not enemies,

If the six ayatanas no longer brought suffering,

If all life were free from suffering,

Who in the world would not delight in it?

The Prince said to King Bimbisara and his close ministers:

“You should not be concerned. Suppose I became king: when old age and illness came upon me, or when I had to die, who could take these calamities in my stead? If no one could take my place, why should you be concerned?

In this world there are benevolent fathers and filial children who love one another most deeply, but when death comes, can they die in one another’s stead? Or if, one day, suffering comes upon this falsely constituted body, then even though one occupies an exalted position and one’s six kinds of kin gather closely around, it is like a blind person holding a torch—what benefit can it bring to his eyes? I contemplate all conditioned things as impermanent, illusory, and unreal.

Happiness is scarce, while suffering is abundant, and this body is not mine. The world is empty and insubstantial, and one cannot abide in it for long. Whatever is born must die; whatever undertaking succeeds will eventually fail; where there is peace, danger will arise; whatever is gained will be lost; and all the myriad things in their confusion will return to emptiness.

The formless spirit, wavering and without clarity, will be led into the perils of birth and death, not merely to endure a single lifetime. Because of craving and attachment, beings are enveloped in the net of ignorance and submerged in the river of birth and death, unable to awaken. Therefore, I wish to enter the mountain forests and single-mindedly cultivate in purity the Four Formless Attainments, transcend sensual desire and the realm of form, extinguish anger, sever every longing, and contemplate the nature of emptiness, utterly without attachment.

This is to return to the source and revert to one’s original nature, thereby escaping the roots of birth and death. If I thus fulfill my aspiration, would that not be complete peace and security?”

King Bimbisara and the elders clearly understood. Rejoicing, they praised him:

“The Prince’s aspiration is truly wondrous and rarely found in this world. You will certainly attain the path. When you do, please deliver me first.”

The Crown Prince departed in silence, thinking: “Now that I am entering the mountains and forests, I am still wearing this precious garment. Foolish people of the world all meet with calamity because of wealth.” Just then, the Crown Prince encountered a hunter wearing a Dharma robe. The Crown Prince rejoiced and thought: “This truly is the robe of a genuine practitioner, a compassionate Dharma garment that brings deliverance to the world. Why should a hunter wear it? I wish to exchange for this Dharma robe so that I may fulfill my aspiration.” The Crown Prince immediately exchanged his gold-embroidered garment for that Dharma robe. The hunter was greatly delighted at heart, and the bodhisattva also rejoiced.

The Crown Prince put on the Dharma robe and found it soft, light, and pure, appearing no different from a Buddha’s sanghati. He then entered the mountains. Wearing the Dharma robe, the bodhisattva radiated a joyful light that illuminated all the mountains and forests. At that time there were two ascetics, one named Alan and the other Kalan. They had cultivated the Way for many years, had perfected the four dhyanas, and had attained the five superknowledges. Seeing the light, they were startled and wondered: “What auspicious sign is this?” They immediately went out together to look. From afar, they saw that Crown Prince Siddhartha had now gone forth into homelessness, and they said:

“Come, Siddhartha! Please sit upon this couch. There is cool spring water and delicious fruit here; please partake of them.”

They spoke this verse:

The sovereign sun has newly appeared

Above the summit of this mountain;

The light of wisdom shines upon

All sentient beings everywhere.

Whoever beholds your honored countenance

Will never grow weary of the sight;

Your virtue is supremely lofty,

Peerless, with none to equal you.

The bodhisattva then said:

Though you cultivate the four meditative concentrations,

You do not know unsurpassed wisdom.

The mind of the Way is the true source;

It does not lie in worshiping false gods.

Following worldly practices, you call them true,

And constantly seek rebirth in the Brahma heaven;

Therefore you do not know the Way

And revolve, falling through birth and death.

Chapter 6: SIX YEARS OF DILIGENT ASCETIC PRACTICE

The bodhisattva aroused loving-kindness and reflected upon all sentient beings who grow old, decline, and become confused, unable to escape the suffering of sickness and death. Wishing to enable sentient beings to attain liberation, he single-mindedly aroused compassion, pitying those afflicted by calamity, hardship, hunger, thirst, heat, cold, gain, loss, and wrongdoing. Wishing to bring sentient beings peace and security, he single-mindedly aroused sympathetic joy.

He contemplated how the entire world must encounter calamity, anxiety, and terror. Wishing to bring them ease, he single-mindedly aroused equanimity. He wished to deliver sentient beings from the eight difficulties within the five destinies, where they were obscured and deluded by ignorance and could not see the true and right Way.

Contemplating how he might rescue and liberate them, he concentrated his mind single-pointedly: gaining what was good, he did not rejoice; encountering what was evil, he did not grieve. He relinquished the eight worldly conditions—gain, loss, blame, praise, honor, censure, suffering, and pleasure—and remained unmoved by them. At that time, the bodhisattva attained the second dhyana.

The Crown Prince continued onward until he reached the Nairanjana River. Its waters flowed gently, and many fruit trees grew there. Everywhere there were flowing springs and bathing pools whose waters were clear and cool, without worms, mosquitoes, flies, or other pests. The ascetic dwelling by that river was named Sena, and he instructed five hundred disciples to cultivate according to his method.

At that time, the bodhisattva sat beneath a pala tree, resolutely seeking the unsurpassed, right, and true Way. The devas offered him amrita, but the bodhisattva firmly refused it and vowed to eat only one grain of rice and one sesame seed each day to sustain his strength. He cultivated while seated in this manner for six years.

His body wasted away until only skin covered his bones, yet his spirit became deeply serene and still. With single-minded quiescence, he contemplated the mindfulness-of-breathing method: first, counting; second, following; third, stopping; fourth, contemplation; fifth, returning; and sixth, purification. The Crown Prince contemplated this Dharma method through twelve cycles in this way, yet his mind remained undistracted.

He attained subtle supernormal powers, relinquished all unwholesome dharmas, was no longer subject to the five hindrances, and did not indulge in the five sensual pleasures. All evils naturally vanished, his mindfulness became lucid and distinct, and he contemplated the unconditioned Dharma. Like a valiant man who has overcome his enemies, his mind became purified.

The bodhisattva attained the third dhyana.

Lord Shakra thought: “The bodhisattva has sat beneath the tree for a full six years, and his body has become emaciated. I must cause the people of the world to offer food to this Wheel-Turning King, so as to restore what was lost through six years of ascetic practice.”

Lord Shakra influenced the minds of Sena’s two daughters, causing them to dream that the whole world had turned into water. Within that water was a radiant flower made of the seven precious substances. In a moment, the flower withered and lost its fresh and beautiful color. Then someone sprinkled it with water, and the flower revived. The other flowers in the water, when they first began to sprout, emerged and grew across the surface of the water. The two young women awoke from the dream, astonished at this unprecedented event, and related it to their father. Their father also could not explain it. They went about asking all the elders, but no one could answer them.

Lord Shakra then transformed himself into a brahmin and explained the dream to the young women:

“You saw the whole world become water and a flower arise within it. This represents the Crown Prince, son of King Shuddhodana, when he was first born. He has now sat beneath a tree for six years, and his body has grown weak and emaciated, represented by the withering flower. The person who sprinkled water upon it, causing the flower to become fresh again, represents the one who will offer him food. The small flowers sprouting and seeking to grow represent beings undergoing birth and death within the five destinies.”

Lord Shakra then said:

For six years his resolve has remained steadfast;

He has paid no heed to hunger or cold.

Diligent and free from attachment,

His body is gaunt, mere skin covering bone.

You should reverently

Make an offering to the bodhisattva.

In this life you will gain great merit,

And in lives to come enjoy wholesome fruits.

The young women asked:

“How should the food offering be prepared?”

The brahmin replied:

“Take the milk of five hundred cows and successively feed it to other cows, gradually reducing their number until the last remaining cow has drunk all the preceding milk. Take the milk from that cow and cook it into porridge. Let the milk porridge boil until its froth rises seven arm-spans high. Then hold the vessel with the left hand above and the right hand below—or the reverse—and only then pour the porridge into the bowl. The bowl and spoon used for the porridge must be clean.”

The two young women reverently offered the bowl of milk porridge to the bodhisattva. The bodhisattva thought: “First, I must bathe and cleanse myself. Only then shall I partake of the porridge.”

He went to the river and bathed until he was clean. When he had finished bathing and wished to climb onto the bank, a heavenly spirit bent down a leafy branch to shelter and support him. After he had consumed the bowl of porridge offered by the two young women, the Crown Prince’s strength returned to normal. He invoked blessings upon the two young women so that they might gain immeasurable merit and taught them to take refuge in and revere the Three Jewels.

After finishing the porridge, the Crown Prince rinsed his mouth and washed his hands. He washed the bowl and released it into the river. The bowl floated upstream for not yet seven miles when a deva transformed into a garuda, flew down, and carried the bowl away. It brought the bowl to the place where the Crown Prince’s topknot was kept and erected a stupa to enshrine and honor them.

The Crown Prince then crossed the Nairanjana River. He spoke this verse:

Crossing the Nairanjana River,

With loving-kindness and compassion for sentient beings,

I shall eradicate the three poisons in the five destinies,

Leaving them pure as limpid water.

The bodhisattva further reflected:

Sentient beings fall into the darkness of delusion;

I must use the eight kinds of water

To cleanse the defilements of the three poisons.

Only in this way can they reach the further shore.

Five hundred blue birds

Flew circling around the bodhisattva,

Singing loudly as they circled him three times.

The bodhisattva then continued past the pond of the blind naga. The naga rejoiced greatly and sprang forth to meet the bodhisattva, speaking this verse:

Excellent indeed that I meet Siddhartha!

Why have you come so late to bring deliverance?

I respectfully invite all beings

To partake of the unsurpassed amrita.

As you walk, the earth trembles,

And music sounds forth spontaneously;

Surely the Buddhas of the past

Toward me, you have no doubt.

With unsurpassed wisdom,

He subdues the hostile maras;

The sun of the Buddha shines forth,

Awakening all beings everywhere.

The Prince continued onward. He beheld dense forests and mountains, level ground, purity everywhere, soft green grass, abundant flowing sweet springs, and pure, flourishing, fragrant flowers. Within this forest stood an especially tall and mighty tree. Its branches grew in tiers, its foliage was luxuriant, and its blossoms were beautiful and radiant, as though adorned by the heavens. Its crown resembled a celestial banner. It was the most auspicious of all signs, the king among the trees of the forest.

The bodhisattva walked a few steps farther and saw a man cutting grass. He asked:

“What is your name?”

“My name is Auspicious.”

“Then the grass you cut is auspicious grass! If you give me some grass, all the ten directions will be auspicious.”

Then Auspicious spoke this verse:

You have renounced the throne of a holy king,

The seven treasures and jeweled maidens,

Beds and seats of gold and silver,

Mattresses and rugs woven of brocade and silk.

The joyful, auspicious songs of birds

Resound through all eight octaves,

Surpassing even the Brahma heavens—

For what would you use this grass?

The bodhisattva replied:

Throughout asamkhyeya ages I have vowed

To deliver all living beings everywhere.

Now I have come to fulfill my original vow;

Therefore, I ask you for this grass.

If you have grass in disarray,

Bring it beneath the great tree.

The minds of the world are all disordered;

I shall cause them to become upright.

Bring the grass and spread it upon the ground,

Level and even, as I have said.

The bodhisattva will sit upon it,

And all shall benefit from this grace.

The bodhisattva made three vows

While seated beneath this tree:

If I do not attain the Way,

I shall never forsake my oath.

Though my body wither away,

Until it is accomplished, I shall not rise.

When Buddhas of old attained the Way,

It was always born of single-minded resolve.

Then the bodhisattva sat motionless and entered samadhi. He abandoned thoughts of suffering and pleasure, entertained no perception of sorrow or joy, and allowed his mind to cling neither to good nor to evil, abiding directly in the Middle Way. He was like a person who, having bathed and cleansed himself, wrapped his body in a white mantle: pure within and without, utterly free of dust and defilement. His breath naturally subsided; inwardly tranquil, quiescent, peaceful, and serene, he attained the fourth dhyana.

Having perfected meditative concentration, the bodhisattva never departed from the mind of great compassion. Through the skillful means of wisdom, he penetrated the profound and subtle truths and fully understood the thirty-seven factors of the Way. What are the thirty-seven factors? They are:

1. The four foundations of mindfulness.

2. The four right efforts.

3. The four bases of spiritual power.

4. The five faculties.

5. The five powers.

6. The seven factors of awakening.

7. The eightfold right practice.

The bodhisattva contemplated once again from the beginning: suffering, emptiness, impermanence, signlessness, and wishlessness. He reflected that, because of craving and sensual desire, beings in the world must fall into the suffering of birth and death, and that few are able to awaken by themselves. This fundamentally originates from the twelve links of dependent origination.

What are the twelve links of dependent origination? They are: conditioned by ignorance, formations arise; conditioned by formations, consciousness arises; conditioned by consciousness, name-and-form arises; conditioned by name-and-form, the six ayatanas arise; conditioned by the six ayatanas, contact arises; conditioned by contact, feeling arises; conditioned by feeling, craving arises; conditioned by craving, clinging arises; conditioned by clinging, becoming arises; conditioned by becoming, birth arises; conditioned by birth arise aging, death, sorrow, lamentation, painful feeling, affliction, and great calamity—the complete mass of suffering.

Through this, beings revolve and fall within birth and death. One who wishes to attain the Way must cut off craving, extinguish sensual desire, and become utterly quiescent and unconditioned. Then ignorance is extinguished.

With the extinction of ignorance, formations are extinguished; with the extinction of formations, consciousness is extinguished; with the extinction of consciousness, name-and-form is extinguished; with the extinction of name-and-form, the six ayatanas are extinguished; with the extinction of the six ayatanas, contact is extinguished; with the extinction of contact, feeling is extinguished. With the extinction of feeling, craving is extinguished; with the extinction of craving, clinging is extinguished.

With the extinction of clinging, becoming is extinguished. With the extinction of becoming, birth is extinguished. With the extinction of birth, aging, death, sorrow, lamentation, mental anguish, and affliction are all completely ended.

This is then called attaining the Way.

Chapter 7: SUBDUING MARA

The bodhisattva thought, “I must now subdue the maras and their retinues.” He immediately emitted a dazzling ray from the mark between his eyebrows, causing Mara’s palace to tremble. The maras were utterly terrified, and their hearts were troubled. They saw the bodhisattva seated alone beneath the tree, pure and free from desire, diligently cultivating meditative concentration without indolence. They became distressed at heart, could not relish their food or sleep peacefully, and no longer delighted in song, for they feared that if the bodhisattva attained the Way, he would surely gain a great victory over them. They wished to seize the opportunity to destroy the bodhisattva’s resolve for the Way before he became a Buddha.

Mara’s son Sumati, whose name means Virtuous Intention, remonstrated with his father Mara:

“The bodhisattva practices the pure conduct. No one in the three realms is his equal, and his spiritual powers are unhindered. Therefore, myriads of millions of devas and all the maras must bow their heads in homage to him. Neither devas nor humans can obstruct or harm the bodhisattva. We should not increase our evil deeds and thereby destroy our own merit.”

The Mara king did not listen. He summoned his three daughters: the first was named Affectionate Desire, the second Everlasting Pleasure, and the third Great Pleasure. All three said:

“Father and king, please do not worry. We shall go and destroy the bodhisattva’s resolve for the Way to your satisfaction. Father and king, do not burden your heart with anxious thoughts.”

The three maidens then adorned themselves in celestial garments and led five hundred jeweled maidens to the bodhisattva. They played music, sang, and intoned amorous verses in an attempt to disturb his resolve for the Way. The three maidens said:

“Your virtue is supreme. The devas all revere you and wish to make offerings to you. Therefore, the heavens have presented us to you. We are exceedingly pure and are in the fullness of youth. We ask leave to attend upon you day and night.”

The bodhisattva replied:

“Because of merit from former lives, you have obtained celestial bodies, yet without reflecting on impermanence you engage in seductive wiles. Though your forms are beautiful, your minds are not upright, like a beautiful vase filled with foul poison. You will bring ruin upon yourselves—what is strange about that?

Merit is difficult to preserve for long. Lustful, evil, and unwholesome conduct causes one to lose one’s original mind. When your merit is exhausted and your transgressions come to fruition, you will fall into the three evil destinies, take bodies among the six courses of existence, and find escape difficult.

You disturb the resolve for the Way of others, taking no account of impermanence, and throughout kalpas you revolve among the five destinies. Now, even when confronted by you, I shall not depart from diligent austerity. Wherever I have been born in the world, I have regarded the elderly as my mother, those of mature years as my elder sisters, and the young as my younger sisters.

Sisters, return to your palace. Do not commit these wrongful deeds.”

As soon as the bodhisattva finished speaking, the maidens suddenly became old women, with white hair, fallen teeth, bent backs, and dim eyes. Leaning upon staffs and supported by others, they returned.

When the Mara king saw that his three daughters had all returned as old women, his fury increased. He immediately summoned the kings of ghosts and spirits, who assembled into a host of one billion eight hundred million. They flew down from the heavens and surrounded the bodhisattva for thirty-six yojanas.

They transformed themselves into the forms of lions, bears, leopards, tigers, elephants, dragons, oxen, horses, dogs, pigs, monkeys, apes, and innumerable other creatures. They conjured insects with human heads, beings with serpentine bodies and tortoise heads, and soft-shelled turtles with six eyes. Some had one neck and many heads; they bared fangs and claws, carried mountains upon their heads, and spewed fire.

Thunder and lightning raged on every side, while they brandished swords and spears in their hands.

The bodhisattva’s mind was filled with loving-kindness, and he did not waver or feel the slightest fear. His countenance became still more radiant and beautiful, and the armies of demons could not approach him. The Mara king came before the bodhisattva and questioned him in verse. With a mind of loving-kindness, the bodhisattva answered his questions:

“What does the bhiksu seek, sitting beneath this tree,

Delighting to dwell in a forest filled with savage beasts?

Dark clouds gather thickly—a truly dreadful sight;

Why are you not frightened when the celestial maras assail you?”

“In ancient times the Buddhas practiced the true Way,

Utterly serene, dispelling all darkness.

Within me is contained the supreme Dharma;

Seated here, I am resolved to withstand Mara.”

“You clearly know how to become a wheel-turning king

The seven treasures come of themselves to the lord of the four quarters;

The five desires, brought to their utmost, are beyond compare.

You should arise and return to the palace.

—I contemplate sensual desire as water boiling in a bronze cauldron;

I cast away the throne as one casts away spittle.

How could being a king free one from the anxieties of aging and death?

This is futile; speak no more such deluded words.

—Why speak so arrogantly amid the mountains and forests,

Abandoning kingdom, wealth, and rank to choose idle seclusion?

Do you not see that I have brought the four divisions of my army—

Elephants, horses, chariots, and infantry—one billion eight hundred million strong?

—Indeed, I have seen monkeys, apes, and lions,

Ghostly forms, tigers, leopards, boars, and venomous snakes,

Bearing knives, swords, blades, and spears,

Leaping and shouting until their cries fill the sky,

And displaying countless billions of spirits armed for war.

—It is Mara such as you who has come to this assembly;

Though sharp arrows and fiery assaults fall like wind-driven rain,

They cannot cause the Buddha to waver!

Mara’s original vow is to make me retreat;

I too have sworn never to return without attaining the goal.

How could your merit and virtue equal the Buddha’s?

From this, one may readily know who shall prevail.

—I have in the past given away even my own kin,

And thus became the Mara king of the six heavens.

What merit do you, a bhiksu, possess?

You proclaim it immeasurable—but who will bear witness?

—Long ago I made my vow before Dipankara Buddha

And received the prediction that I would become Sakyamuni.

Having extinguished anger and fear, I sit upon the seat of meditation;

With my mind concentrated, your army shall be utterly defeated.

I have served and honored many Buddhas,

Giving possessions and wealth, clothing and food.

Through benevolence I accumulated virtue as abundant as the earth;

Therefore I am freed from deluded perceptions and untouched by affliction.

—The bodhisattva then employed the power of wisdom,

Extended his hand to the earth, and said: “It knows me clearly.”

At that moment the level earth shook in many ways;

Mara and his retinue tumbled to the ground.

The Mara king, utterly defeated and filled with boundless resentment,

Fell unconscious upon the earth.

Mara’s son understood in his heart and awakened;

He immediately came forward and repented of his wrongdoing:

“I shall no longer employ weapons;

I shall cherish only loving-kindness and relinquish Mara’s enmity.”

—In the world, weapons disturb the hearts of beings;

I regard all of you as living beings.

Though elephants and horses may be tamed,

Their former habits may later arise again.

But one who tames the supreme Buddha-nature,

As the Buddha has tamed it, will never again become inhumane.

The devas saw the Buddha subdue the hosts of Mara,

Taming the unthinking ones so that his foes submitted of themselves.

Joyfully, the devas came and offered flowers:

The Mara king was defeated, and the Dharma King prevailed.

This was accomplished through wisdom and an impartial mind;

Wisdom shattered every evil,

Causing enemies to become disciples.

We bow in reverence to the One who realized the Four Immeasurables.

His face is like the radiant moon, his countenance serene;

His voice pervades the ten directions, and his virtue is lofty as a mountain.

No one can equal the Buddha’s excellent marks.

We bow our heads in homage to the Compassionate Honored One.

For many kalpas the bodhisattva had practiced pure conduct. His great loving-kindness permeated all; his meditative concentration was sovereign and unhindered; and through the power of patience he subdued Mara, scattering Mara’s army. With his mind thus concentrated, without relying upon discursive wisdom and without thoughts of joy or sorrow, after midnight that night the bodhisattva attained the Threefold Knowledge—the complete fulfillment of the three superknowledges.

All his outflows were extinguished, and no fetters remained. The bodhisattva clearly knew the accumulated karma of his many lives in the distant past and attained the Four Bases of Spiritual Power: concentration founded upon vigor, concentration founded upon desire, concentration founded upon mind, and concentration founded upon wisdom. He acquired the power of transformation, and all he wished for came to pass without any deliberate effort.

The bodhisattva could fly and could divide one body into hundreds of thousands of bodies, even into innumerable bodies, and then reunite them as a single body. He could pass through the earth and through stone walls, appearing in one place and vanishing in another like waves upon water. He could cause water or fire to issue from his body; he could submerge himself in water or travel through empty space without falling; and he could sit or lie in the air like a bird in flight.

He could stand as high as the heavens, grasp the sun and moon with his hands, and extend his body upright as far as the Brahma Heaven and the Heaven of Sovereignty. His eyes saw through all things, his ears clearly heard every sound, and his mind could know all events in advance. Whether devas, humans, nagas, ghosts, spirits, or creatures that crawled, flew, moved, or stirred, the bodhisattva knew and heard how their bodies acted, what their mouths spoke, and what their minds thought.

Whether a person possessed a mind of lust or was free from lust, possessed a mind of anger or was free from anger, was deluded or undeluded, possessed craving or was free from craving, possessed conduct of great resolve or lacked such conduct, possessed inward and outward practices or lacked them, had wholesome or unwholesome thoughts, had a unified mind or a distracted mind, or possessed the aspiration for liberation or lacked that aspiration—the bodhisattva knew them all.

The bodhisattva contemplated beings throughout the five destinies: devas, humans, hell beings, animals, and ghosts and spirits. He discerned their parents, brothers, wives, children, names, and clans in former lives, both within and beyond their families, whether one life, ten lives, hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of millions, or innumerable lives in the past—even as far back as the dissolution of heaven and earth at the end of one kalpa, when all lay desolate and unformed, and the establishment of another new kalpa, when human beings and the myriad creatures arose once again.

The bodhisattva could know ten kalpas, a hundred kalpas, even thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of millions, and innumerable kalpas. He knew beings’ names and clans, both within and beyond their families; their food and clothing; their suffering and happiness; the length or brevity of their lives; their death in one place and birth in another; and their repeated wandering through samsara. From the time they first assumed a body through birth, growth, aging, and death, he knew whether their forms were ugly or beautiful, whether they were virtuous or foolish, and whether they suffered or rejoiced.

Throughout all three realms, the bodhisattva could discern everything. He saw humans, ghosts, and spirits taking birth in the five destinies according to their karma: some fell into hell, some became animals, some became ghosts or spirits, some were born in the heavens, and some assumed human bodies. Some were born into noble, wealthy, and happy households, while others were born into lowly, poor, and humble families.

The bodhisattva knew that sentient beings, confused and obstructed by the five skandhas—1. form; 2. feeling; 3. perception; 4. formations; and 5. consciousness(1)—pursued the five desires: the eyes craving forms, the ears craving sounds, the nose craving fragrances, the tongue craving flavors, and the body craving smooth and pleasant tactile sensations, thereby giving rise to sensual desire. Or they longed for happiness through wealth and beauty, from which the source of evil arose, and from evil came suffering.

To bring the accumulation of craving completely to an end is to cease following the lustful mind, clearly discern every subtle aspect, and practice according to the Noble Eightfold Path; then all suffering will cease. Just as there can be no fire when there is no fuel, this is called the path of liberation that transcends the world.

The bodhisattva knew for himself that he had abandoned the source of evil and was free from lust, anger, and delusion. He had utterly extinguished the seeds of birth and death and the five skandhas. No calamity or karmic adversity remained; what had to be done was accomplished, and his wisdom was perfected.

As the morning star first appeared, the bodhisattva suddenly attained great awakening. He realized the unsurpassed true and perfect Way, became the Supremely and Perfectly Awakened One, and attained the eighteen unique qualities of a Buddha, the ten powers, and the four fearlessnesses. The eighteen qualities of a Buddha, present from the attainment of Buddhahood until entry into nirvana, are:

1. He never strays from the Way.

2. He never speaks meaningless words.

3. He is always rightly mindful.

4. He is always fully aware.

5. He always abides in concentration.

6. He always examines with clear awareness.

7. His aspiration to liberate beings never diminishes.

8. His vigor never diminishes.

9. His concentration of mind never diminishes.

10. His wisdom never diminishes.

11. His liberation never diminishes.

12. His knowledge and vision of liberation never diminish.

13. He clearly knows all events of the past.

14. He clearly knows all events of the future.

15. He clearly knows all events of the present.

16. He governs all bodily actions through wisdom.

17. He governs all verbal conduct through wisdom.

18. He governs all thoughts through wisdom.

These are the eighteen unique qualities.

The ten powers are:

1. The Buddha possesses exceedingly profound and subtle knowledge and vision. Thus, what is possible and what is impossible are revealed to him in accordance with reality.

2. The Buddha clearly knows the karmic causes, effects, and recompenses of all sentient beings in the future, present, and past.

3. The Buddha discerns all the different thoughts of devas, humans, and other sentient beings.

4. The Buddha knows all the many kinds of languages spoken by sentient beings, as well as the languages used to liberate the world.

5. The Buddha clearly knows the immeasurable and complex dispositions found in the world.

6. The Buddha constantly abides in meditative concentration, clearly understanding all kinds of concentration and the defilements associated with other forms of meditation.

7. The Buddha knows every bondage and liberation, the profound mysteries of desire, and what ought to be practiced.

8. The Buddha’s wisdom is as vast as the ocean, his speech is wholly excellent, and he clearly knows the past lives of all sentient beings.

9. With his purified divine eye, the Buddha sees the consciousnesses of humans and other beings leave their bodies at death and undergo retribution according to good and evil, misfortune and blessing.

10. The Buddha has completely eliminated the afflictions and is no longer bound. His wisdom is perfectly right and supreme, and he has personally realized the knowledge and vision that thoroughly penetrate the path of practice. What had to be done has been accomplished; there is no further birth and death, and his profound wisdom is radiant and clear.

These are the Buddha’s Ten Powers.

The Four Fearlessnesses are:

1. The Buddha’s spiritual wisdom of perfect awakening knows all things. Yet ignorant people claim that the Buddha cannot know everything. Even Brahma, Mara, and all the sages are unable to dispute the Buddha’s wisdom. He proceeds alone without fear.

2. The Buddha has brought the afflictions to an end. Ignorant people say that the Buddha’s afflictions have not yet been exhausted. Even Brahma, Mara, and all the sages are unable to dispute the Buddha’s resolve. He proceeds alone without fear.

3. The Buddha expounds the sutras of precepts, which everyone recites and practices. Ignorant people say that the Buddha’s sutras create hindrances. Even Brahma, Mara, and all the sages are unable to dispute or malign the Buddha’s true scriptures. He proceeds alone without fear.

4. The Buddha reveals the meaning of the path and teaches the true and essential means of transcending every suffering and calamity. Ignorant people say that the Buddha cannot deliver sentient beings from all suffering. Even Brahma, Mara, and all the sages are unable to dispute the Buddha’s true path. He travels everywhere without fear.

Having attained this Dharma together with all knowledge and vision, the Buddha sat in contemplation: “This is truly wondrous and subtle, difficult to know, difficult to comprehend, and exceedingly difficult to attain. It is supremely exalted and unsurpassed, vast and boundless, profound and without shore, deep beyond fathoming, immense enough to encompass heaven and earth, yet so subtle that it abides nowhere. It nurtures sentient beings as though they were newborn children. By attending upon the Buddhas, accumulating immeasurable merit, and striving diligently through many kalpas while constantly bearing this work in mind, I have now attained it all.”

The Buddha joyfully recited:

Performing meritorious deeds brings joyful rewards;

All aspirations shall be fulfilled.

Swiftly entering quiescent cessation,

All shall attain nirvana.

Awakening to the supreme fruit of Buddhahood,

Freed from sensual desire, undefiled and pure,

They shall guide all beings upon the path;

Those who follow them will surely rejoice.

At that time, the Buddha was beneath the Bodhi tree at the Excellent Victory seat of awakening in the land of Magadha. Through the power of his virtue, he had subdued Mara’s armies; his wisdom was pure, and he had attained the Three Unobstructed Knowledges. He converted the two merchants Trapusa and Bhallika, transmitting to them the Dharma of the Three Refuges and the Five Precepts, whereupon they became faithful lay followers.

He recalled how, in the past, the Buddha Dipankara had bestowed upon him the prediction that he would become a Buddha: “After one hundred kalpas, you shall become a Buddha named Sakyamuni Tathagata, the Worthy and Truly Awakened One, Perfect in Knowledge and Conduct, Well-Gone One, Knower of the World, Unsurpassed One, Tamer of Those to Be Tamed, Teacher of Devas and Humans, the Buddha, the Blessed One. You shall liberate sentient beings just as I do today.” From that time onward, I established vast vows and faithfully practiced the six paramitas, the Four Immeasurable Minds, the Four Acts of Kindness, and the Thirty-Seven Factors of Awakening.

Skillfully employing expedient means appropriate to each occasion, I accumulated all Dharmas without weariness or indolence, practiced many kinds of exalted conduct, patiently endured immeasurable suffering, repaid every kindness without omission, and fulfilled my great vow.

When the Buddha had finished expounding this sutra, the entire assembly rejoiced greatly, bowed at the Buddha’s feet, and withdrew.