The Country of Jushinajieluo拘屍那揭羅國

In the country of Jushinajieluo the walls of the city have fallen and are broken, and the villages are desolate. The brick foundation of the old city is more than ten li around. The people who live there are few and scattered, and the lanes and the streets are overgrown.

In the northeast corner within the city there is a stupa raised by King Wuyou, and it is the old house of Zhuntuo. In the house there is a well, which was dug when he was about to prepare the offering he gave. Though the years and the months have long since passed, the water is still clear and good.

Three or four li northwest of the city one crosses the Ashiduofadi river, and not far from the western bank one comes to the Suoluo grove. The trees are of the oak kind. Their bark is green and white and their leaves are very bright and glossy. Four of the trees are especially tall, and this is the place where the Tathagata entered quiet extinction. In the great brick shrine there an image of the Tathagata entering nirvana has been made, lying with its head to the north. Beside it there is a stupa raised by King Wuyou. Its foundation leans and has sunk, but it is still more than two hundred feet high. Before it a stone pillar was set up to record the entering into quiet extinction of the Tathagata. There is a writing on it, but it does not give the day and the month. It is heard in the old records, "The Buddha entered parinirvana in the eightieth year of his life, on the fifteenth day of the second half of the month of Feishequ," and this falls on the fifteenth day of the third month here. The Sarvastivada school holds that the Buddha entered parinirvana on the eighth day of the second half of the month of Jialaidijia, and this falls on the eighth day of the ninth month here. Since the Buddha entered nirvana the schools have differed in their reckoning. Some say more than twelve hundred years, some more than thirteen hundred years, some more than fifteen hundred years, and some say that nine hundred have already passed and a thousand years are not yet full.

Not far beside the shrine there is a stupa. This is the place where the Tathagata, when he was practicing the way of a bodhisattva, was king of the pheasants and put out a fire. Long ago there was a great thick forest in this land, and the furred kinds and the feathered kinds built their nests and lived in their holes there. A startled wind rose on all four sides, and the fierce flames came fast as a whirlwind. At that time there was one pheasant, and it was moved with hurt and with pity. It wet its wings in the clear stream, flew into the sky and shook the water off. Then the god Shakra looked down and said to it, "Why do you hold to your folly and wear out your wings for nothing? A great fire has risen and burns the woods and the fields. How can that small body of yours put it out?" The pheasant said, "Who is it that speaks?" He said, "I am the god Shakra." The pheasant said, "Now the god Shakra has great power of merit, and there is nothing he wishes for that he does not accomplish. To save from disaster and to lift out of trouble would be for him like pointing to his own palm. Yet he says instead that there is no merit in this. Where does the fault lie? The fierce fire is at its height. Do not say so much!" And at once it shook its wings again and went to the running water. Then the god Shakra took up water in his hands and sprinkled it over that forest, and the fire went out and the smoke cleared and the living kinds kept their lives whole. Therefore it is now called the stupa of the putting out of the fire.

Not far beside the place where the pheasant put out the fire there is a stupa. This is the place where the Tathagata, when he was practicing the way of a bodhisattva, was a deer and saved living things. In the far past there was a great forest here, and flames burned across the middle of the plain. The flying and the running creatures were driven to the end of their strength. Before them was the peril of a swift stream and behind them the trouble of the fierce fire, and there was none that did not sink and drown and lose its body and its life. That deer had pity on them, and it set its body across the running water, and though its hide was torn through and its bones were broken it forced itself on and lifted out those who were drowning. A lame hare came last of all, and the deer bore its weariness and its pain and carried it across. When its sinews and its strength were spent, it sank in the water and died. The gods gathered its bones and raised a stupa.

Not far west of the place where the deer lifted out the drowning there is a stupa. This is the place where Subatuoluo entered quiet extinction. Shanxian was at first a teacher of the Brahmans. He was a hundred and twenty years old, and being old and long in the world he knew much. When he heard that the Buddha was entering quiet extinction, he came to the place between the two trees and asked Ananda, "The Buddha, the World Honored One, is about to enter quiet extinction. A doubt holds me back, and I wish to ask about it." Ananda said, "The Buddha is about to enter nirvana. I pray you, do not trouble him." He said, "I have heard that an age with a Buddha in it is hard to meet with and that the right Law is hard to hear. I have a deep doubt, and I fear there will be no one to ask." So Shanxian went in, and he asked the Buddha first, "There are several separate companies that call themselves teachers, and each has a law of its own and hands down its teaching and leads the world. Can Qiaodamo know them all?" The Buddha said, "I have searched them all out to the bottom," and then he set it forth for him. When Shanxian had heard it his heart was clear and he believed and understood, and he asked to enter the Law and to receive the full precepts. The Tathagata said to him, "How can you do it? One of another way and a different learning who practices the pure conduct must be tried for four years. His practice is watched and his nature is examined, and if his bearing is calm and his words are true, then he may purely practice the pure conduct within my Law. But it rests on the man's own practice. What is hard in this?" Shanxian said, "The World Honored One has pity, and he takes all in and saves them without partiality. I shall be tried and shall learn for four years, and then my three kinds of action will be in accord." The Buddha said, "I have said it already. It rests on the man's own practice." So Shanxian left his house and at once received the full precepts, and he strove and practiced with diligence, and his body and his mind were bold and strong. Before long he had no doubt about the Law and bore witness to it in his own person. Not long after the night had turned, he realized the fruit of the arhat, all that leaked away in him was spent, and the pure conduct was established. He could not bear to see the Buddha enter the great nirvana, and so before the assembly he entered the meditation of the realm of fire, showed his spiritual powers, and entered quiet extinction first. This was the last disciple of the Tathagata, and he passed away first of all, and he is the lame hare that crossed last of all long ago.

Beside the place where Shanxian entered quiet extinction there is a stupa. This is the place where the vajra-bearer fell to the ground. The World Honored One of great pity showed himself for the good of men according to their capacity, and when the work of his teaching was done he entered the joy of quiet extinction, lying with his head to the north between the two trees. When the vajra-bearing god, the strong man Miji, saw that the Buddha had passed away, he cried out in grief and said, "The Tathagata has left me and entered the great nirvana. There is no refuge now, and none to cover and protect us." The poison arrow went deep into him and the fire of his sorrow blazed up, and he threw down his adamantine club and fainted and fell to the ground. After a long while he rose again, and grieving and longing they said to one another, "In the great sea of birth and death, who shall be the boat and the oar? In the long night where there is no light, who shall be the lamp and the torch?"

Beside the place where the vajra-bearer fell to the ground there is a stupa. This is the place where they made offerings for seven days after the Tathagata entered quiet extinction. When the Tathagata was about to enter quiet extinction a bright light shone everywhere and men and gods all gathered, and there was none that was not moved with grief, and they said to one another, "The World Honored One of great awakening now enters quiet extinction. The merit of living beings is spent, and the world has nothing to lean upon." The Tathagata lay on his right side on the lion couch and said to the great assembly, "Do not say that the Tathagata is extinguished for good. The body of the Law abides always and is apart from all change. You must cast off sloth and seek deliverance early." The monks sobbed and wept in their grief. Then Anilutuo said to the monks, "Stop, stop. Do not grieve. The gods will blame you and think it strange." Then, when the host of Moluo had finished their offerings and wished to lift the golden coffin and go to the place of the Niediebanna, Anilutuo said, "Wait a while. The gods wish to keep him seven days and make their offerings." So the host of heaven took the wonderful flowers of heaven and roamed the empty air and praised his holy virtue, and each poured out a sincere heart and raised the offering together.

Beside the place where the coffin was kept there is a stupa. This is the place where the lady Mohemoye wept for the Buddha. When the Tathagata had entered quiet extinction and the laying in the coffin was done, Anilutuo went up to the palace of heaven and said to the lady Moye, "The great and holy king of the Law has now entered quiet extinction." When Moye heard it she choked with grief and fainted away, and then she came with the host of gods to the place between the two trees. She saw the sanghati robe, the bowl and the staff, and she stroked them and cried aloud, and when her voice had failed her she found it again and said, "The merit of men and gods is spent, and the eye of the world is put out. Now all these things are empty and have no master." By the holy power of the Tathagata the golden coffin opened of itself, and he sent out a bright light and sat with his palms joined, and he comforted his loving mother and asked after her, "You have come down from far away. It is the law of all that is done that it should be so. I beg you not to grieve too deeply." Ananda held back his sorrow and asked the Buddha, "When men of later ages ask me, what shall I answer them?" He said, "Say that when the Buddha had entered nirvana his loving mother Moye came down from the palace of heaven to the place between the two trees, and that the Tathagata, for the sake of all the living who are not filial, rose from the golden coffin and joined his palms and preached the Law."

More than three hundred paces north of the city, across the river, there is a stupa. This is the place where the body of the Tathagata was burned. The ground is yellow and black now, and ashes and charcoal are mixed with the earth, and those who seek and pray there with all their heart sometimes obtain relics. When the Tathagata had entered quiet extinction, men and gods were moved with grief. They made a coffin of the seven treasures and wrapped his body in a thousand folds of fine cloth, they set out incense and flowers and raised banners and canopies. The host of Moluo bore up the bier and led it forth, going before it and following after it, and they crossed the Golden River to the north. They filled it full of fragrant oil and piled up much fragrant wood and set fire to it and burned him, and two of the fine cloths did not burn, the one that lay closest to his body and the one that covered the outside. The relics were divided and scattered for all living beings, and only the hair and the nails stayed whole and unharmed.

Beside the place where his body was burned there is a stupa, the place where the Tathagata showed his two feet for Dajiashebo. The golden coffin of the Tathagata had been let down and the fragrant wood had been piled up, but the fire would not burn it, and the whole company was startled and afraid. Anilutuo said, "It only waits for Jiashebo." Then Dajiashebo came from the mountains and the forests with five hundred disciples, and he came to the city of Jushi and asked Ananda, "May the body of the World Honored One be seen?" Ananda said, "It is wound in a thousand folds of fine cloth and laid in a double coffin, and the fragrant wood is piled up and they are about to burn it." At this the Buddha put out his two feet from within the coffin, and on the marks of the wheel a strange color was seen. He asked Ananda, "Why is this here?" He said, "When the Buddha first entered nirvana, men and gods wept in grief, and the tears of the multitude splashed and stained him, and so this strange color came." Jiashebo did reverence and walked around him and raised his praise, and the fragrant wood burned of itself and a great fire blazed high. So when the Tathagata entered quiet extinction he came out of the coffin three times. First he put out his arm and asked Ananda about the ordering of the road. Next he rose and sat and preached the Law for his mother. Last he showed his two feet and let Dajiashebo see them.

Beside the place where he showed his feet there is a stupa raised by King Wuyou, and this is the place where the eight kings divided the relics. Before it a stone pillar was set up with the matter carved on it. After the Buddha entered nirvana, when the Niediebanna was over, the kings of the eight countries came with their four kinds of troops and sent a Brahman of upright nature to say to the strong men of Jushi, "The guide of gods and men has entered quiet extinction in this country, and so we have come from far away on purpose to ask for a share of the relics." The strong men said, "The Tathagata lowered his honor and came down to this land below, and the bright guide of the world is gone and the loving father of living beings is lost. The relics of the Tathagata are ours to make our offerings to. You will only weary yourselves on the road, and in the end you will get nothing." Then the great kings asked with humble words, and when they were not granted they said again, "You do not yield to a request made with courtesy, and the power of arms is not far off." The Brahman of upright nature raised his voice and said, "Think of it. The World Honored One of great pity bore all things and practiced merit and goodness through ages beyond counting, and I think you have all heard the whole of it. Now you would overbear these men, and this is not fitting. The relics are here now. They should be evenly divided into eight shares, and each may make his own offering. Why go so far as to raise troops?" The strong men followed his words and at once measured out the shares evenly and were about to make eight parts. Shakra said to the kings, "The gods must have a share too. Do not strive with force." The dragon king Anapodaduo, the dragon king Wenlin and the dragon king Yinabodaluo also took up this argument, "Do not leave us out. If it comes to force, your host will be no match for us." The Brahman of upright nature said, "Do not quarrel and shout. It should be divided among all." So he made three parts, one for the gods, the second for the host of dragons, and the third left to the world of men, which the eight countries divided again. Among the gods, the dragons and the kings of men there was none that was not moved with grief.

Going southwest more than two hundred li from the stupa of the dividing of the relics, one comes to a great village. There was a Brahman there of a powerful house and great wealth, who held firmly to what was pure and did not mix with others. His learning had searched out the five kinds of knowledge, and he honored and revered the three treasures. Beside where he lived he built a lodging for monks, and he spent all his goods upon it and adorned it with every precious thing. Whenever monks came and went along the road he asked them warmly to stay and made his offerings with all his heart, keeping them one night or even seven days. Afterward King Sheshangjia broke and destroyed the Law of the Buddha, and the company of monks was cut off, and the years and the months passed quickly, but the Brahman still bore an earnest and sorrowing heart. As he was walking one day he saw a shramana with shaggy brows and white hair coming with a staff in his hand. The Brahman ran to meet him and asked where he came from, and he asked him into the lodging and made ready every offering, and in the morning he cooked gruel of pure milk and set it before him. The shramana took it, but he had scarcely tasted it with his teeth when he set the bowl down, brooded, and sighed a long sigh. The Brahman held the food and knelt and asked him, "Your reverence brings good wherever the causes lead you, and you have been kind enough to come to us. Was the night not restful? Or is the gruel without flavor?" The shramana said with pity, "I grieve that the merit of living beings grows thin. Let this word wait. I shall speak when I have eaten." When the shramana had finished eating he gathered his robe and took the road at once. The Brahman said, "You promised a word a while ago. Why do you say nothing now?" The shramana said, "I have not forgotten. It is not easy to tell, and the matter might raise doubt. If you must hear it, I shall now tell it in brief. What I sighed over just now was not that I thought your gruel poor. For several hundred years I have not tasted this flavor. Long ago, when the Tathagata was in the world, I was among those who followed him, and we were at the bamboo grove shrine in the city of Wangshe, where I bent over the clear stream and washed the vessels, and sometimes rinsed my mouth and sometimes bathed. Alas, the pure milk of today does not come up to the plain water of old, and this is because the merit of men and gods has grown less." The Brahman said, "Then has your reverence seen the Buddha himself?" The shramana said, "I have. Have you not heard of Luohuluo, the son of the Buddha? I am he. To guard the right Law I have not yet entered quiet extinction." When he had said this he was suddenly not to be seen. Then the Brahman spread scented paste in the room where he had lodged and sprinkled it and swept it, and he set up an image there with reverence, and he honored it as though the man were still present.

Going on again through a great forest more than five hundred li, one comes to the country of Poluonasi.