菩薩本生鬘論

Homage to the All-Knowing One,
Whose virtue is perfectly fused, serene and sublime,
Whose marks and features are the parts of a Sage,
Without contrivance, identical with suchness.

My mind is still, free of contention,

Forgetful of praise and of giving,
For the great root is the foundation,

Born of purity that does not change.

Long ago, within the human realm,

He constantly cultivated the practice of quietude,

Taking the kusuma flower,
With palms joined, scattering it in offering.

Far removed from all evil deeds,

Liberated from all afflictions,

Beloved of gods and humans,

He expounded the Unsurpassed Path.

Because his mind and intention were still,

He attained the pure Dharma,

The marks of the world abiding constant,

Inexhaustible, without contrivance.

Cutting off the karmic deeds of flux,

Through the power of perfected giving,

Then among a hundred thousand myriad kinds,

Departing from the joy and bliss of birth,
Because of grasping through inversion,

One therefore cannot attain realization.

Furthermore, that quietude buried within,
Whose merit and virtue are ever more excellent,

That Great Bodhisattva,

Complete with great wisdom,

Is therefore able to take up the burden.
In ages past

He always cultivated the six perfections,

Having severed disturbance and obstruction,
Departed and freed from the cycle of birth and death,

His mind of great compassion vast and wide,

Always pitying and caring for living kinds,

Amid impermanence and change

The gods and people of the world
All thereby gained wholesome benefit.

Recalling of old the cultivation of pure causes,

In accord with the true wisdom without marks,
A practitioner who cultivates in this way

Cures and extinguishes the disease of affliction.

Ascending straight to the realm of the real,

Ever honoring, revering, and trusting
The secret treasury of the Tathagata.

Departing from deluded grasping and discrimination,
Severing anger and affliction,

The power of the Bodhisattva's compassionate vow
Pities and cares for all living kinds,

*

Origin Story 1: CASTING ONESELF DOWN TO OFFER THE BODY TO THE TIGER

At that time, the World-Honored One, together with the great assembly, journeyed all the way to a forest belonging to a great village named Pancala. He said to the Venerable Ananda:

"Venerable one, prepare a seat for the Tathagata here!"

When the task was finished, the Buddha ascended the seat and said to the bhikshus:

"Masters, do you wish to see the relics of the Tathagata from a past life, when he was cultivating ascetic practices?"

The great assembly replied:

"World-Honored One, we vow that we wish to behold them."

The World-Honored One then pressed his hand into the earth, producing the six kinds of quaking, and suddenly, from beneath the ground, a stupa of the seven treasures sprang up and appeared before the great assembly. The World-Honored One rose from his seat, paid homage to the stupa, circumambulated it to the right, and then said to the Venerable Ananda:

"Venerable one, go and open the door of this stupa. You will see a chest made of the seven treasures, inlaid with precious gems. Open the lid of that chest, and you will see relics white as the snow of conch-jade. Bring the sacred bones of that Great Being back to me."

When the World-Honored One had taken hold of the sacred bones, he told the great assembly to look closely, and he recited a verse:

The Bodhisattva's merit surpasses all. / Diligently he cultivated the practice of the six perfections. / Valiantly he sought bodhi, / Relinquishing his body, his mind without regret.

The Buddha said:

"Bhikshus, you should all show reverence and homage, for these relics arise from the perfuming and cultivation of wisdom by the immeasurable fragrance of Discipline, Concentration, and Wisdom."

All the great assembly paid reverence and homage, praising it as something that had never been before.

At that time, the Venerable Ananda addressed the Buddha:

"World-Honored One, the Tathagata is the Great Master who has transcended the three realms. For what cause and condition does he pay homage to this handful of bones?"

The Buddha replied:

"Ananda, the Tathagata, by means of this handful of bones, has only now become a Buddha. To repay the kindness of old, today I pay homage. To dispel the doubts that still remain in your minds, the Tathagata will speak of the cause and condition of my past life. Let the great assembly listen with single-minded attention:

"Ananda, in a past age, immeasurable kalpas ago, there was a king named Maharatha. The king had three sons: the first prince was named Mahapranada, the second prince was named Mahadeva, and the third prince was named Mahasattva. At that time, the king arranged an excursion to enjoy the scenery of the mountains, bringing the three princes along, and they rested for a time in a great bamboo forest. The next day, the three princes continued on their stroll and saw a tigress who had given birth to seven cubs seven days before. The first prince said:

"'These seven tiger cubs constantly cling to the tigress, leaving her no leisure to go seek food. I fear that, pressed by hunger and thirst, she will surely devour her cubs.' Hearing these words, the second prince sighed:

"'Alas! This mother and her cubs will soon all die. Is there any way for us to save their lives?'

"The third prince thought silently: 'This body of mine, through a hundred thousand lifetimes, has been cast away wastefully, decaying and perishing, never having gained the slightest benefit. Today, why should I not be able to cast it away?' The princes spoke and thought thus, then, hearts stirred, they lingered a while beside the starving mother tiger and her cubs before turning back.

"Prince Sattva thought further: 'My body must accomplish a great wholesome deed, becoming a great ship upon the sea of birth and death. If I cast away this body, I sever a hundred thousand fears of immeasurable kinds of ulcers and grave illness, for this body is merely a vessel that holds impure things, merely sinews and bones joined and maintained—truly worthy of weariness. Therefore, I should now forsake it, to seek the ultimate, unsurpassed path of liberation, forever departing from all sorrow, grief, suffering, affliction, and impermanence, attaining the adornment of a hundred blessings, accomplishing All-Knowing Wisdom, and bestowing upon beings the immeasurable bliss of the Dharma.'

"At that time, the prince gave rise to great and lofty valor, using the power of his compassionate vow to strengthen his mind. Fearing that his two elder brothers might create obstacles to his aspiration, he asked the two of them to return to the palace first, saying that he would follow after.

"Then Prince Mahasattva hurried back into the bamboo forest, came to the place of the starving mother tiger and her cubs, took off his garments and hung them upon a tree branch, and laid his body down before the mouth of the hungry tiger. The Bodhisattva, with a mind of compassion and endurance, was ready to relinquish his body. But the mother tiger could do nothing.

The Bodhisattva thought: 'The mother tiger is now hungry and weak, unable to seize my body.' He then used a dry bamboo stalk to pierce his own neck so that blood flowed out, then climbed up onto a high rock and cast himself down to the ground. At that very moment, the great earth manifested the six kinds of quaking, like a wild wind raising waves upon the sea, rising and sinking without rest. The sun suddenly grew dark, as though an asura had hidden away its light.

The heavens rained down all kinds of flowers and wondrous fragrant powders, falling layer upon layer to cover the bamboo forest everywhere, and in the sky the gods sang their praises.

"At that time, the hungry tiger licked the blood at the Bodhisattva's neck and then devoured all his flesh, leaving only the bones. Then the two elder princes, their hearts filled with grief, came running to the place of the hungry tiger. Unable to contain their emotions, they cast themselves upon the remaining bones of their younger brother, swooning for a long while before reviving. Grieving and weeping, clinging long, they only then turned back.

"Now, the queen was sleeping upon a high tower, and in her dream she suddenly saw an inauspicious omen: her teeth fell out, both her breasts were cut off, and she saw three young doves, one of which was seized away by a hawk. The queen awoke and saw that both her breasts were still flowing with milk. A maidservant heard someone outside say, 'The search for the prince has still found nothing!' and ran into the palace to inform the queen. Hearing this, the queen, anxious and grieving, wept with eyes full of tears, and hastened to where the king was residing, saying:

"'Great king, we have lost our beloved youngest son!'

"Hearing this, the king, choked with grief, lamented:

"'Today we have lost our beloved son—what immense suffering!'

"Then he used comforting words to console the queen:

"'My lady, do not grieve. I will now issue an order to gather the ministers and the people together, that they may leave the city and spread out to search.'

"A little later, a minister returned and reported to the king: According to the news received, the two elder princes had just been found, but the youngest prince had still not been located.

"Then a second minister, his bearing one of grief and suffering, weeping, came to the place of the king and reported in full the matter of how the prince had relinquished his body.

"The king and queen, unable to restrain themselves in their grief, went together to the place where the Bodhisattva had relinquished his body. Seeing only the remaining heap of bones, they collapsed upon it, writhing in anguish, and both swooned away, knowing nothing more. The attendants hurriedly sprinkled water over their bodies, and after a long while they revived. At that time, the queen, her hair disheveled and tangled, rolled upon the ground like a fish stranded on dry land, like a mother cow that has lost her calf. Together with the two princes she grieved and wept aloud, then asked the king to issue an order to perform the cremation rite, to gather the relics from the body of the Bodhisattva and enshrine them in a precious stupa, that they might make offerings.

"The Buddha said:

"'The Venerable Ananda should know that the relics I am now holding are the very relics of Mahasattva. At that time, though I still had many afflictions of greed, anger, and delusion, and so on, and often dwelt within the evil destinies such as the hells, the realm of hungry ghosts, and the animal realm, I followed conditions to rescue beings, causing them to escape from those destinies. How much more so today, when all afflictions have been utterly severed and there remain no more habitual tendencies, and I am called the Teacher of the realms of gods and humans, complete with All-Knowing Wisdom—how could I not, for the sake of all beings amid every peril and calamity, take their place and undergo their sufferings?'

"The Buddha said to the Venerable Ananda:

"'Prince Mahasattva of old was no stranger—he is none other than my own body, now present in this assembly. The king of that time is now my father King Suddhodana; the queen of that time is now Lady Maya. The eldest prince is now the Bodhisattva Maitreya; the second prince is now the Bodhisattva Manjushri. The hungry tigress of old is now my aunt. The litter of tiger cubs is now Mahamaudgalyayana, Shariputra, and the five bhikshus of the group led by Kaundinya.'"

When the World-Honored One had spoken thus of the cause and condition of his former life, immeasurable asamkhyeyas of the great assembly of gods and humans were all filled with mingled grief and joy, and together gave rise to the aspiration to seek the fruit of Unsurpassed, Perfect, Complete Enlightenment.

The Buddha withdrew his spiritual power, and the wondrous stupa of the seven treasures that had appeared before suddenly vanished away.

– *

*

Origin Story 2:

KING SIBI SAVES THE LIFE OF A DOVE

The Buddha said to the bhikshus:

"I recall in the distant past, immeasurable asamkhyeya kalpas ago, in the land of Jambudvipa there was a Great King named Sibi. The city chosen as his capital was named Devati. The land of the kingdom was fertile, and the people lived in prosperity and ease. The Great King governed eighty-four thousand small countries; his consorts and palace women numbered twenty thousand in all; he had five hundred crown princes and ten thousand ministers. The king was filled with compassion and carried out a policy of benevolence, tolerance, and magnanimity, loving and caring for his people as a kind mother loves her infant child.

"At that time Sakra, lord of the Heaven of the Thirty-three, saw the five signs of decline appear clearly upon himself and was about to fall and degenerate. The Heavenly Lord had a close minister, the god Vishvakarman, who, seeing the countenance of Sakra thus, asked:

"'Why does the honored countenance of the Heavenly Lord appear sorrowful?'

"Sakra replied:

"'I am about to reach the end of my life. Moreover, I reflect that in the world the Buddha-Dharma has perished and the Great Bodhisattvas do not manifest in response. My mind is anxious, and I know not upon what to rely!'

"The god Vishvakarman replied again:

"'Heavenly Lord, now in the land of Jambudvipa there is King Sibi, a person of diligence whose will is firm in seeking the Buddha path. The Heavenly Lord should go there to take refuge, and he will surely be saved from calamity.'

"Hearing this, Sakra was uncertain whether it was true or false: 'If King Sibi is indeed a Bodhisattva, I will test him.' He then said to Vishvakarman:

"'You transform yourself into a dove, and I will become a hawk. The hawk will chase and seize the dove, and the dove will flee into the royal palace to beg the king's protection. In this way we can examine whether the king is truly a real Bodhisattva or not.'

"Vishvakarman said:

"'Today, toward a Bodhisattva we ought to reverence and make offerings; we should not harass him, nor bring calamity and torment to make a person suffer.'

"At that time the god Sakra spoke a verse:

My mind is fundamentally without evil, / As when fire is used to test gold; / I test this Bodhisattva / To make clear that he is one truly real.

"Having spoken the verse, the god Vishvakarman then transformed into a dove, and Sakra became a hawk that chased after it in close pursuit, nearly catching the dove. The dove, in terror, flew and hid beneath the armpit of King Sibi, begging for rescue and protection. The hawk alighted before the king and spoke with a human voice:

"'Now this dove is my food, and I am at present extremely hungry. I beg the king to return the dove to me.'

"The king replied:

"'My fundamental vow is to rescue and liberate all beings. This dove has crept into my robe; I absolutely cannot return it to you.'

"The hawk said:

"'Great king, you say that today you ever pity, remember, and think of all beings. Yet if you cut off my portion of food, then my life is imperiled—why do you not rescue me?'

"The king replied:

"'If I substitute other kinds of flesh for you, are you able to eat them?'

"The hawk said:

"'Only flesh still with warm fresh blood can I eat.'

"The king thought silently: 'If I kill one life to save another life, that is not in accord with reason. Only the flesh of my own body can substitute for that flesh; apart from this, all the many other lives must be preserved.' Having thought thus, the king then took a sharp knife and cut flesh from his own thigh, and gave that flesh to the hawk in exchange for the life of the dove.

"The hawk said:

"'You, O king, are a benefactor. Now you take flesh from your own body to substitute for the flesh of the dove; then your flesh must be made to balance against the flesh of the dove.'

"The king ordered a scale to be brought. At the two ends of the beam he placed two pans, and in the middle hung the hook of the scale, adjusting it to be level. Then he placed the bird in one pan and the flesh in the other.

The king had cut away all the flesh of his thigh, yet the beam still tipped toward the side of the dove. He went on to cut the flesh of his arm, the flesh of his flank—until at last there remained not the slightest bit of flesh upon his whole body, and still it did not balance against the small, light form of the dove. The king wished to place his entire body upon the pan of the scale, but his strength was not as he wished, so his legs gave way and he fell, swooning upon the ground, knowing nothing more, and only after a long while revived.

The king, summoning the power of valor, reproached himself in his mind: 'From immeasurable kalpas until now I have been burdened and tormented by this body, revolving in the six destinies, undergoing every kind of suffering, never having brought any blessing or benefit to beings. Now is precisely the time to create blessing and benefit—why am I so lax and slow?' Having thought thus, the Great King forced himself to rise, climbed into the pan of the scale, his mind filled with joy, gaining what had never been before.

At that time, the great earth manifested the six kinds of quaking, and all the palaces of the gods were shaken. The gods of the Form realm, dwelling in the sky, sang praises. Seeing the Bodhisattva cultivate ascetic practice and accomplish what is difficult to accomplish, all of them, moved with grief, shed tears like rain, and again scattered all kinds of heavenly flowers to express their offerings.

At that time, the god Sakra and the god Vishvakarman both manifested their original forms, stood before the king, and said:

"'The merit of the Great King's ascetic cultivation is truly inconceivable! Within the three realms, with this merit, does the Great King seek the fruit of a Wheel-Turning King, a Brahma King, or Sakra—or what is it that he wishes to do?'

"The king replied:

"'My fundamental vow is not to seek the blessed reward of honor and glory in the world. I vow only to take this merit to seek the accomplishment of the Buddha path.'

"Sakra asked again:

"'Now the king's body aches to the very marrow of the bones. Does he give rise to a mind of regret?'

"The king replied:

"'Not the slightest regret. I see upon your body an exceedingly great calamity and suffering.'

"Sakra said:

"'The king says he has no regret—then what shall serve as proof?'

"The king then made a vow:

"'From the time I first gave rise to the aspiration until this moment, I have not had the slightest particle of regret. If what I seek—the resolute attainment of Buddhahood—is true and not false, just as is my fundamental vow, then may it cause all the limbs and parts of my body to be at once restored as before.'

"Having uttered this vow, in but an instant the king's body returned to as it was before. The gods and the people of the world all praised it as something that had never been before, unable to restrain their boundless joy.

"The Buddha said to the great assembly:

"'King Sibi of old was no stranger—he is none other than my own body today.'"

At that time, the assembly, hearing the words spoken by the Buddha, all with one voice from different mouths inquired:

"In the past, the World-Honored One, in order to rescue and liberate beings, cultivated all the practices of relinquishing body and life to seek the great Dharma. When he attained the path and the sea of Dharma was fulfilled—the Dharma banner raised, the Dharma drum beaten, the Dharma torch lit—precisely when the faculties of beings had become mature and the causes and conditions were fitting, why did the Tathagata wish to abandon all beings and enter Nirvana without expounding the Dharma?

It was only when the god Brahma praised the former body of the Tathagata, who in earnestly seeking the Dharma had relinquished a thousand heads, that he then consented, and went to the Deer Park in the country of Varanasi, three times turning the wheel of the right Dharma, and contemplating the Dharma of the Four Noble Truths. From then the Three Jewels first appeared in the world."

– *

*

Origin Story 3:

THE TATHAGATA BEGS FOR ALMS

At that time, the World-Honored One resided in the Storied Lecture Hall in the Bamboo Grove monastery, in the country of Magadha. As the time for the meal approached, the Buddha, together with the Venerable Ananda, donned his robe and took up his alms bowl to enter the city to beg for food. He saw an aged and feeble couple, both blind in their eyes and furthermore poor and destitute, who had only a single child, just seven years of age. This child constantly went out to beg in order to support his parents. Whenever he obtained fine food or fresh, good fruit, he offered it to his father and mother to eat first; as for food that was not fine and fruit that was bruised and withered, he ate it himself.

At that time, the Venerable Ananda thought silently: "This child is still of tender years, yet he has the conduct of the utmost filial piety, anxiously and earnestly caring morning and evening so that his parents lack nothing."

When the Buddha had finished begging for food, he returned to the monastery. After taking his meal, he washed his feet and spread out his seat, about to expound the scriptural Dharma for the great assembly.

The Venerable Ananda came before the Buddha, joined his palms, and addressed him:

"World-Honored One, just now, while I was attending the World-Honored One in entering the city to beg for food, I saw a small child leading his blind parents to beg for food here and there, supporting his parents with the utmost filial devotion. To be able to do so day after day continually is truly difficult."

The Buddha said:

"Ananda, not only the layperson but also those who have left the household life must all take filial conduct as the first matter. Considering merit, the merit of filial devotion toward one's parents is beyond measure or reckoning. Why is this?

"I recall that in a past age, immeasurable kalpas ago, I was at that time a young boy, also seven years of age. Out of filial obedience, I once cut flesh from my own body to save the lives of my parents in a moment of grave peril. From then until now, by this merit, I have constantly been Sakra or a king among humans, and even to the present, becoming a Buddha—all is due to that blessed virtue."

The Venerable Ananda addressed the Buddha:

"World-Honored One, I wish to hear the cause by which you saved the lives of your parents in a past life. How did that matter come about?"

The Buddha said:

"Ananda, listen well. I will, for the Venerable one, recount that story.

"In the distant past, here in Jambudvipa, there was a great country named Takshashila. The king was named Deva, and he had ten crown princes, each governing a small country. The youngest prince was named Suvasa. The kingdom of that king was prosperous and peaceful, and the people lived in a state of great tranquility. At that time there was a cruel and violent king in a neighboring country named Rahu, who wished to invade and seize the kingdom of King Suvasa. King Rahu allied himself with a band of brutal men and raised an army of soldiers and generals to attack. King Suvasa's military force was inferior, and so he had to flee back to his father's country to take refuge.

"King Suvasa had a beloved crown prince named Suvarna, still of tender years and unable to be parted from him. So the king, leading his wife by the hand and supporting his son, hastily fled the country. The road back to his old homeland had two routes: one route, traveled for only seven days, reached his native home; the other route was a narrow, remote, winding path that required fourteen days to reach.

The king strove to bring along provisions stored up sufficient for seven days, but on the road, fleeing the enemy, his spirit was in panic and confusion, and so he mistakenly took the winding, remote route. As a result, he had gone but half the way when the provisions ran out, and on the following days all three of them were hungry, thirsty, and exhausted. Looking all around, there was scarcely anything left by which to live.

Because of the urgent necessity, with no recourse but to sacrifice one person to preserve the lives of two, the king told his wife to lead the son ahead, while he himself followed behind, drawing his sword, about to slay his wife's body to nourish the prince and his own life. At that moment, Prince Suvarna suddenly looked back and saw his father raising the sword, about to slay his mother the queen, and hastily cried out:

"'May my father not kill my mother! Rather, cut the flesh of my body to use as provisions! I have never heard of any child who would eat the flesh of his own mother.'

"Suvarna earnestly and sincerely wept and pleaded that his mother the queen might keep her life whole.

"Suvarna further addressed his royal father:

"'I vow to take the flesh of my body to save the lives of my parents. If you cut the flesh, please do not cut it all at once; you may cut and eat it little by little, enough to extend through the remaining days of the journey. If you cut it all at one time, once my life is ended the flesh will rot and must be thrown away, and so for the purpose of relieving hunger this would not succeed.'

"At that time, the royal father and the queen together said to Suvarna:

"'Today we are committing this sinful deed, which is truly not our fundamental intention. But how could the two of us bear to take a knife and directly cut the flesh of our own child?'

"At that time, the prince had already settled his resolve. He took a sharp knife and cut the flesh of his own body, and kneeling, offered it to his parents. The king and his wife, seeing this, wept with bitter grief, and only after a long while could they bring themselves to eat the flesh of their child.

After several days passed, the flesh upon the child's body was all gone, yet they had not reached their destination, and the pangs of hunger and thirst pressed all the more, hard to endure. In the spaces between the joints of the bones there remained only a little flesh, just enough to maintain the faint, lingering life of the prince in his final moments. Suvasa and his wife both used loving words to comfort their child, and pressing their heads together in lingering attachment, they were then forced to depart.

"Then the prince thought silently: 'I have taken my own flesh to save the lives of my parents. May my father and mother reach their old homeland, their bodies safe and at peace, enjoying a state of tranquility. I vow with this wholesome root to swiftly realize bodhi, in order to rescue and liberate all beings in the ten directions, that they may depart from all sufferings and enjoy the true and constant bliss.' When the prince made this vow, the three-thousandfold great-thousand world manifested the six kinds of quaking, and all the gods of the Desire realm and the Form realm were astonished.

They then used their heavenly eyes to observe the world and learned that the Bodhisattva was cultivating filial conduct in this way. The heavenly beings in the sky joined their palms and praised his merit, their tears falling like rain.

"At that time, the god Sakra transformed into tigers and wolves, wishing to come and devour the flesh in order to test the Bodhisattva's mind. The prince thought to himself: 'Those fierce beasts wish to come and devour my flesh. I now have only this remaining handful of bones left; I shall, with a mind of joy, give it all away without the slightest regret or sorrow.'

"At once, Sakra manifested his original form and praised the prince:

"'How rare indeed! To be able to use the flesh of your own body to save the lives of your parents—such a filial heart, none can equal! What do you seek? Please tell us.'

"The prince replied:

"'I seek only to attain the unsurpassed Buddha path.'

"The Heavenly Emperor asked again:

"'I now see your body—for the sake of filial care toward your parents, your skin and flesh are all gone. That suffering is truly hard to endure. Do you have regret?'

"The prince replied:

"'If it is truly as it is, that my mind has not the slightest regret, and that I shall surely become a Buddha in a future age, then may it cause the flesh upon my body to be fully restored as before.'

"Having spoken this vow, at once his body was restored as it was before. At that time, Sakra and the gods all praised him to the utmost:

"'Excellent! Excellent!'

"The Buddha said to the Venerable Ananda:

"'King Suvasa of old is now none other than my father King Suddhodana; the queen of that time is now Lady Maya; and the prince Suvarna is my own body.'"